


for reasons wretched and divine

by ohallows



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (at least in reference to current canon), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Canon Asexual Character, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Tags will be updated, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-01-23 02:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 62,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21312430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohallows/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: Once upon a time, a boy with bright green eyes and shining golden hair was born in a small village town on the coast who’s hands were rumored to bring people back to life.Once upon a time, in a mansion high upon a hill, a beautiful baby boy was born with brown skin and dark eyes, and his hands caused death at the slightest touch.
Relationships: Azu/Sasha Racket (minor), Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan/Zolf Smith
Comments: 96
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> oh shit here we go again

Once upon a time, a boy with bright green eyes and shining golden hair was born in a small village town on the coast. He had two parents and an older brother who loved him very much indeed, and an entire farm to run around and play in. It was a simple life, but it was one that the boy enjoyed. He and his brother spent their days running around and playing with the animals, jumping into the nearby river, and playing all manner of games with the other village children. The boy never seemed to get injured; or, if he was injured, it never seemed to last as long as it did for the other children. His mother didn’t know what to think, really, but as long as her son was safe and healthy, she didn’t feel a need to consider it too closely.

The father worked long hours at the mine, and didn’t get a chance to notice much about his two sons. He wanted them to be proud of him, to respect him, and to someday follow in his footsteps as great miners of their own. But one thing he did notice, as small as it might be, was that every time his younger son hugged him, regardless of how brief, he felt some of the weight lift off of his shoulders for a moment. Like the mother, he didn’t question it; it’s easy to ignore little things like this, of course, when you don’t have the time to think about it. 

The family didn’t learn about the boy’s powers until he was five years old; an old, sickly bird had built a nest right next to their house, and come winter, the poor thing was without a pulse. It made the boy sad, when his mother told him, and he reached out to touch the bird before she could pull him back. A burst of golden light fell over the boy, and the mother shielded her eyes until the glow faded. When she looked back, the bird was chirping happily in the boy’s hand, looking happier than it had in life. It flew away in an instant and the boy smiled up at his mother, pride falling away when she could only look at him in fear and confusion.

It wasn’t the boy she was scared of, for he was still her son and she loved him very much. She was scared of other people finding out about his incredible gift, and wanted to keep her son safe. His older brother was sworn to secrecy, and both boys learned how important it was to never tell anyone of the younger boy’s gift. 

The boy was made to wear black gloves; his mother painstakingly sewed the thickest gloves she could without removing any of the boy’s ability to move his fingers. For many long days, and many long nights, she worked at it, thread rubbing along her fingers as she knitted and knitted. The boy was cautioned not to touch anyone or anything while his mother was finishing up the gloves. His mother and father knew that if word was to get out about what he could do, they’d have no end to the stream of people at their door begging for a miracle. 

The mother and father lied to the entire village, saying that their son needed to wear the gloves because his hands were always so cold that it was a shock when he touched you. The neighbors believed it; the boy had been born earlier than expected, so him having some sort of sickness wasn’t that much of a stretch. 

And so the boy grew up, and learned the truth of what his hands could do, and was instructed not to touch anyone else directly, even if they were living. He became a wonderful farmer, and his brother became a wonderful miner, and together they all kept the secret of the boy’s powers. 

For life (and death) is not something to be trifled with, no matter the power that one has. 

—

Once upon a time, in a mansion high upon a hill, a beautiful baby boy was born with brown skin and dark eyes. He had five siblings and a mother and a father who doted upon his every action. Their family was very rich, indeed, and so he received some of the nicest and most expensive presents the day he was born. He was the happiest baby in all the land, gurgling and laughing and smiling at all who came to see him. Everyone in the shining city below the manor would talk about the boy with the strange white gloves. 

For this boy had powers too, you see; the slightest touch from his hands and you would drop dead in an instant. The family learned about his powers the first day he was born, when he reached out for a nurse’s hand and she collapsed onto the floor, heart stopping in an instant. The new parents decided then and there that the young boy would only cause harm and destruction wherever he went, so they decided to cover his hands to protect himself and others. 

All of his siblings were cautioned never to touch his hands, no matter how much he grabbed at them. They instructed one of the maids who was a particularly skillful tailor to knit small gloves for the baby and tied them on his hands, tightening them around his wrists so that the boy wouldn’t be able to slip them off.

As the boy grew, new gloves were made to fit his hands, and still the boy never touched something directly. For his father was a loving but stern man, and the boy did not want to upset him in any way. 

From a young age, the boy was instructed to never touch anyone without the gloves on, to never touch  _ anything _ without the gloves on. His parents were terrified that if someone found out what he could do, he’d be stolen away from them in the dead of night. The parents lied and said that his hands were delicate, so delicate that without the gloves, his hands would always be cut up and bleeding. It seemed a strange condition, but no one in the city below their manor thought it would be polite to question it. 

He was still given the best of everything, but the boy still knew that he must have been cursed, and never knew what it felt like to truly touch anything, not without gloves in the way. For no one knew what other effects his power would have, and it being what it was, he wasn’t keen to tempt fate. 

And so the boy grew up, and the boy became a man, and he still never directly touched anything with his hands. He’d been taught well by his parents, after all, and knew that any contact with his hands would spell death for any living thing. He left home, eventually, looking for bigger and better things and deciding to make something of himself, but he never took off the gloves, and he never told anyone else the truth, repeating the same lie his parents had told to others for longer than he can even remember. 

For death (and life) is not something to be trifled with, no matter the power that one has. 

—

Until now. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ao3 changed their mobile rich text uploading style and i was very confused for a moment. anyway. please enjoy!! comments and kudos make my day :)

It was a bright, shining, warm day when everything in Zolf’s life changed. He still wore the gloves, still didn’t tell anyone else about them, still kept the secret even all these years later. 

Zolf and Feryn both lived in their parents old house; their father had been tragically killed in a mining accident nearly a decade ago, and their mother had passed a few years prior. It had been a particularly difficult time for them both, knowing what Zolf could do, but his mother had always told him not to mess with the natural order of things, and he would never go against her wishes. Feryn supported him, saying that neither of their parents would appreciate being taken away from an eternity of peace and rest, and Zolf agreed. 

Didn’t make it any easier, not for either of them. But they came out of it stronger and closer as brothers than they had before. 

Today, though, Zolf is cleaning some leaves off the fields; it’s early, and he wants to get it done before him and Feryn head into town to pick up some supplies for the week. They need some feed for the animals, most importantly, and a couple smaller things that would be easier to buy than make. It’s also been a bountiful summer, for both him and Feryn. He’s got bucketfuls of produce that he’ll need to sell to some of the vendors down the market, and Feryn’s got a nice stash of gems that should fetch him a pretty penny. 

He’ll have to start planting soon again; his prosthetic leg always feels tight right before the first cold day hits, so he’ll need to get a move on. There are a few village kids he can hire to help him get working, anyway. He makes a mental note to get that started and finishes raking up this pile of leaves, running a hand along his sweaty forehead. 

There are only a few more piles he’ll need to make, he reckons. Should be done well before noon, and Feryn should be up by then anyway. He sets off toward the next bunch of leaves, but halts in his tracks. There’s a hooded figure standing there, dressed in a long black robe, just… staring at him. Zolf turns around and, seeing no one behind him, turns back, tilting his head to the side. His grip gets a bit tighter on the handle of his rake as he watches the figure just stand there, almost unnaturally still.

“Well. Who the hell are you?” Zolf finally asks, leaning on the rake in his hands, but the strange hooded figure stood at the edge of the field doesn’t respond. They just stand there, robe billowing slightly in the wind, and Zolf sighs under his breath. He wonders if he should maybe go grab Feryn, but his brother is finally asleep after a too-long stint in the mines, and Zolf isn’t going to be the one to interrupt that. Plus, he’s pretty sure he can take the stranger; they might be covered in a robe, but they don’t look anything close to bulky and Zolf’s got nearly 25 years of pent-up frustration that needs an outlet that isn’t the soil below his feet. 

“Oi, I asked you a question,” Zolf says, taking a step forward. A rake isn’t the most formidable weapon, he knows that, but it’s all he’s got at the moment. They still don’t respond, and now Zolf’s really annoyed. “What are you doing here?”

He takes another step forward and gets ready to swing the rake at them, just in case.

The hooded figure moves, and in an instant is on him. They’ve got superhuman speed - Zolf only has a moment to realize they must be using magic before the stranger is behind him and wrapping an arm around his throat. He hasn’t even had time to start to swing the rake. 

The pressure builds on his throat as Zolf starts to struggle, grabbing at the strangers arm. His gloves slip right off of the material, and he’s left helplessly trying to find purchase and gaining zero ground, trying to get enough air in his lungs to scream for Feryn. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?” the stranger says in his ear, and rips one of the gloves off of Zolf’s hand. A soft golden glow shines from around his hands - nearly unnoticeable unless you were looking for it. He chokes back a response and finally gets a grip on the stranger’s arm, scrabbling at it to find purchase. Tightening his grip, he drops back on his heels and pulls, and they both go down. Zolf gets the upper hand, but only for a moment before the stranger punches him in the face. 

He swears and clutches his hands to his nose, reeling back. The stranger reaches up and grabs his collar, rolling them until they’re veritably sitting on Zolf’s chest. 

“I knew it,” they hiss, and even with the darkness of the hooded mask, Zolf swears he sees a smile stretching across their face. He thrashes back and forth, trying to kick the stranger off, but they’re much stronger than they look and Zolf is helpless. 

Zolf yells when the stranger pulls his second glove off, and he can feel the near-reverence emanating from them as they slide a knife out from somewhere in their robe. He struggles harder, pulling his hands away until he’s able to headbutt the stranger in the face, and they swear loudly and reel back, dropping the knife next to him. Zolf makes a move for the knife but they grab his arms before he can, and then they’re rolling again, and Zolf is pinned, arms pressed down into his back. 

“Get off!” Zolf shouts, and then he spots Feryn running out of the house with an old broom handle, hair completely sticking out to the side as his jaw drops for an instant. And then he’s moving, forgoing the broom handle for brute force as he tackles the stranger, knocking him off of Zolf. 

Zolf is up in an instant, pulling his gloves back on with shaking hands, doing the best he can to not touch anything else, even the dirt below. It’s not until the gloves are back securely on his hands that he finally stops shaking, finally feels as though he’s back in his own skin. 

Feryn gets the upper hand much faster than Zolf does, and when Zolf turns back, he sees his brother pressing the stranger into the ground, knee digging into their back as he pulls their arms painfully tight. 

“All right, Zolf?” Feryn asks, not taking his eyes off of the stranger, who’s gone almost worryingly still. 

“Peachy. Thanks for the help,” Zolf says, kneeling down next to the stranger. Feryn nods, and glances up briefly to give Zolf a once over, face darkening at the split lip Zolf can feel. He just hopes he hasn’t gotten blood on his shirt. 

“Let’s see you, then,” Zolf says, reaching out to slip his fingers under the edge of their hood. They catch on something as he tries to pull it off, although he can’t find a catch or release anywhere. 

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” they say, sounding almost bored (too bored, in Zolf’s opinion, and Feryn’s as well based on his expression, for a person who currently has an arm around their throat). Their voice is strange; It doesn’t take a genius to realize that they must be using a magical modulator to keep it hidden. “The hood’s magic. You won’t be able to pull it down.”

“Fine,” Zolf retorts, straightening up. “Then maybe you can tell me why the hell you were here? What do you want with me?” 

“Thought that was rather obvious, what with the whole ‘pulling off your gloves’ thing, but apparently not.”

Zolf frowns down at them, crossing his arms. “Not the answer I wanted. Do better, because he’s -“ he gestures at Feryn with a nod - “isn’t as nice as I am.”

The stranger laughs. “Sorry, is that supposed to be intimidating? Thought you’d be more of a challenge.”

Zolf snorts. “Who’s got who pinned, again?”

The stranger falls silent at that, and Zolf sighs.

“How the hell did you know -“

“We all do,” the stranger says, cutting him off. “It took us a while to find you again, of course, but now that we’re here… well, that power could cause a lot of problems for us. We don’t know how you got it, but -“

Zolf runs a hand through his hair, straightening up and taking a step away from the stranger. “Got it? I didn’t get it. I never wanted this power, I didn’t ask for it, I don’t want to deal with it, no one should even have this kind of power!” 

“Obviously, you were picked - wait. You don’t - you don’t want it?” 

“Why the hell would I - no, I was born like this,” Zolf says, confused.

“Wait. Honestly? Did you never question why you got these powers? Why they were gifted to you, of all people?” they say, laughing in their strange, nearly robotic way. “As though you ever deserved them in the first place.”

They cough as Feryn tightens his grip around their neck. “Watch it,” he says, before loosening it again, and the stranger gulps in air the moment they get the chance. 

“I never wanted them,” Zolf growls, crouching down next to the stranger where they’re pinned under Feryn. “So tell me who sent you, and I can give the powers back.”

“Give them back?” the stranger repeats, eyes widening. “You stupid pawn, you can’t give the powers back. That’s not how they work. They’re yours. Gods only know why you were the ones selected,” they spit out, and Zolf freezes. 

“Ones?” he breathes out, trading a confused glance with Feryn, who looks just as lost. 

“Do you really think you’re the only one with powers?” the stranger says, incredulous. “Wow. They told me you were dense, but this is beyond the pale.” 

“Fuck you,” Feryn growls, and brings the broom handle down on the stranger’s head. They immediately collapse face first with a pained groan, stirring slightly. Feryn watches them stir for a moment, but Zolf just shakes his head.

“Bit much?” he says, with a raised eyebrow, but Feryn just shrugs. 

“Not hard enough to knock them out, and they were being shirty.” 

Zolf rolls his eyes a bit, but he’s not actually that upset by it. Might be good to get some fear of god - or at least some fear of Feryn - in them.

“What do you mean, there’s more of us? Who? Where?” he asks, and the stranger remains silent, looking straight ahead. Their shoulders are tense under Feryn’s grip, and Zolf’s sure that they’re glaring under the hood. 

“Might wanna talk now, mate,” Zolf says, and the stranger looks up at him. 

“No,” they say, voice laced with hatred, and Zolf just shrugs. 

“Suit yourself.” He nods to Feryn and Feryn begins pulling his arms a bit tighter. The stranger winces under the strain but doesn’t falter, still refusing to answer.

“Who else has these powers? Where can I find them?” Zolf asks again, and is met with silence. Feryn bends their arms a bit more and Zolf nearly feels bad for them, knowing firsthand how strong Feryn is. Then again, they did come to murder him, or at least seriously maim him, so the feeling goes away relatively quickly.

“I won’t. Tell you,” they say, through their teeth, and Zolf crosses his arms. He can see them shaking under the pain, under the pressure Feryn’s putting on their shoulders. There’s a strained silence between all of them, and Zolf can tell that one of their arms is on the verge of snapping. Feryn’s jaw is locked as he grimaces. 

“This could be over if you just tell us what we want,” Zolf says, and the stranger finally looks up at him, chest heaving. 

“Fine! Fine, you win, but you have to promise to let me go,” they bargain, and Zolf and Feryn exchange a look. Feryn nods once, leaving the decision up to Zolf, and Zolf shrugs. Feryn lets up on their arms, easing them back to a normal position, but still keeping them pinned to the small of their back. 

“Fine,” Zolf says. “Now tell us what you know.”

“I want a guarantee,” they say, and Zolf just levels a bored glare in their direction. 

“Mate, you came here to kill me, or steal my hands, or some rot, you really ain’t in a position to be making demands.”

They don’t speak for a moment, and Feryn gradually begins applying a bit more pressure, until they finally hiss. “Fine! Okay. What do you want to know?”

“You said there’s two of us?” Zolf asks, and the stranger nods. 

“He has the opposite power of you. His touch is death.”

“So you’ve said. We need a bit more than that. What’s his name? Where is he?”

They shake their head. “We don’t know. He - he hasn’t revealed himself to us yet, and we haven’t been able to find him.” 

Zolf looks down at them, frowning. “I don’t believe you. You have to know something else.”

“I don’t, I swear -“ they say, but Zolf cuts them off with a look and a nod at Feryn. “Really! We don’t know his name,” the stranger gasps, and Feryn presses his knee a bit harder into their back. 

“Where is he, then?” Feryn asks, and Zolf crosses his arms, watching the stranger struggle in his grip. 

“We - we don’t know that either. We just know he’s not in Europe,” they say, and it’s almost embarrassed. “We just know that he’ll be the one to lead us all. His touch causes nothing but death, nothing but decay. He’ll give our god the souls he craves, and he’ll do all of it after defeating you.”

Their voice has risen to an almost fervent pitch by the end, exuding reverence, and Zolf and Feryn exchange a look. 

“How,” Zolf asks, and it’s less a question and more a demand. The stranger scoffs.

“He can kill you with a touch. How do you think?” 

Well. That’s certainly disquieting. Zolf chews on his lip as he thinks; if there’s someone out there killing people with a touch, he might be the only

person who can stop them. And help the people he’s hurt. So, yeah, finding out that there’s someone out in the world killing people left and right because they have the diametric opposite of his power wasn’t what he’d expected to learn today. 

“What else?” Zolf asks.

“I told you everything I know,” they say, looking up at Zolf.

Zolf doesn’t say anything for a moment, just glares down at him. 

“Knock him out. He might still be useful,” Zolf says, and Feryn nods. 

“You arse! You promised to let me go!” the stranger yells, thrashing in Feryn’s grip as they glare up at Zolf. 

“I did,” Zolf agrees. “But you came here to murder me, so I’m not all that inclined to honor it. Plus, this was a shite bit of information.” 

“Oh, fuck you,” they spit, and Zolf shrugs. Feryn hits them with the broom handle again and they fall silent, passing out on the ground. Zolf nudges at their arm with his foot and it moves limply. 

“They’re still breathing,” Feryn says, holding his hand under their nose. He gets off the ground himself and glares down at them for a moment before stepping away and pulling Zolf into a tight hug.

“You alright, kid?” he asks, letting go and clapping Zolf on the shoulder. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Zolf says. “Little shaken up, but. It’s fine.” 

“Think they were telling the truth?” he asks, and Zolf shrugs. 

“We’re going to have to check it out either way,” he says, and Feryn makes a little sound of agreement.

“Suppose you’re right. We should -“ Feryn starts, but cuts himself off with a curse. Zolf turns to follow his gaze, and instead of seeing the prone body of his assailant, he saw an empty patch of grass. “They must have teleported. Shite. There goes our chance to get answers.”

Zolf isn’t as certain. They have a bit more than they did before and, yeah, it isn’t a lot, but they know there’s someone else out there like him. 

“We have to check it out,” Zolf says, turning back to Feryn as he plays with the hem of his gloves. 

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” Feryn says, and Zolf knows it’s rhetorical but he still shakes his head anyway. Feryn sighs. “Yeah, expected as much. Me neither.” He kicks at the dirt where the stranger had lain, and frowns. “Dammit.”

“Feryn, if we believe them, there’s someone out there who has the opposite of my power. We can’t just… let them get away with it. They’re hurting people,” Zolf says, chewing on his cheek. 

“I know, Zolf,” Feryn says. “We at least have to investigate it, and then we can make a decision, okay?”

Zolf nods. If there’s even a hint that there’s someone out there who might be… might be like him, even if the powers are the opposite… he wants to meet them. His gut is a strange mix of nerves and excitement. For so long, he thought he was the only one. Thought fate had fucked him over in some unbelievable way, thought he’d been the only one saddled with these powers he’d never wanted.This might actually answer some questions he’s had for… well, forever. 

And, that being said, Zolf only knows one person with enough connections who would be able to piece together the details and find someone who knows something. 

“You know… it’s been a while,” Zolf says, faint beginnings of a plan forming in his head. 

“Hmm?” Feryn says, still glaring down at where the stranger had been.

“Think it’s time to pay Sasha a visit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it really fucked up the scene in writing but please, if u will, imagine with me. after the hooded dude goes ‘he’s EVIL and TERRIBLE and MURDERS PEOPLE’ there’s just a smash cut to hamid like. tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. escorting an old lady across the street. talking really excitedly about maths or magic or smth. and then smash back to the hooded figure like ‘hes the DEVASTATION of this WORLD’


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it is v dialogue heavy !!
> 
> as always, comments and kudos greatly appreciated :)

If you’d asked either Sasha or Zolf where they’d first met, you’d get two different answers. Sasha would say she’d saved Zolf from a couple pickpockets who’d made him their latest mark, and Zolf would say that Sasha had started a bar fight that he’d had to end before she could get hurt. 

The real story, however, was completely different, one that only the two of them (and Feryn, of course) knew and wouldn’t share upon pain of death. The truth was that Zolf had caught Sasha, emaciated and desperate, stealing a few ears of corn from his crops and, instead of reporting her or chasing her off of his property, had invited her inside for a meal. Zolf hadn’t asked where she’d come from, and Sasha hadn’t asked about the gloves, and when Sasha came back the next night, he’d let her in. 

She’d learned about why he wore the gloves eventually, even if Feryn wasn’t completely happy with the decision. Zolf justified it by saying that they’d known Sasha for a couple years, and still didn’t even know her last name or what she did, which mollified Feryn and made Zolf resolve to ask her about it the next time she stopped over. 

Turned out, her last name was Racket, and she’d taken the news about the gloves surprisingly well. She’d asked for proof, obviously, because that’s a wild claim even in this world, and Zolf had peeled the gloves off and pressed a finger to a nearby wilting plant. The moment his skin had made contact, the plant had flourished, and it was almost like watching time skip ahead as it bloomed and grew. 

Sasha hadn’t had any doubts after that demonstration, and both Zolf  and Feryn had considered her family ever since. Neither of them really know her backstory, although Zolf had gotten a decent chunk of it when Sasha’d gotten wine-drunk one night and let some personal history out. Nothing incriminating and nothing specific, but enough for Zolf to realize that he’ll die before letting whoever the hell Barrett Rackett is get his hands on her again, and that whoever this Eldarion lady is, she’d better think twice before coming near Sasha because Zolf will be there, fists raised. 

Sasha helps them out in her own way - she slips them little nuggets of information sometimes, different tips and ideas that she gets from some of her connections (a few dubious connections, sure, but when it predicts some changing tides that end up working to Zolf and Feryn’s benefit, well… they try not to think too hard about the source).

Which is why Zolf and Feryn are trying to find her, because if anyone knows how to find the hooded figures, it’ll be Sasha. She might not know them directly, but Zolf will put money on her knowing someone who does. Sasha always seems to be able to find the people they need. Normally, whenever they need to talk to Sasha, they wait for her to make a surprise appearance, usually in the middle of the night, and then have the conversation when they find her in the kitchen helping herself to breakfast. This situation is a bit more time-sensitive, so they’ve decided to head to her home turf and speed things along. 

Plus, it  has been a while, and Zolf wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he does miss Sasha. She’s fun to have around, and she helps talk Zolf down from some of his worst thoughts when Feryn isn’t around to be the voice of reason. 

Zolf and Feryn have made the trek to Other London before; Other London is less a distinct place and more a grouping of alleyways and streets that are a bit less for the public eye than regular London is. London is bustling enough as it is; they’ve always lived on the outskirts, far enough from the city to avoid the constant press of people and machines, but have had to travel there enough, especially in recent years, that Zolf’s learned he isn’t a big fan. Feryn’s more tolerable of the city, but, then again, Feryn doesn’t mind talking to strangers or being bumped into by people on the street as much as Zolf does.

Other London is a good compromise. Zolf still doesn’t particularly like it, but everyone there understands to keep their nose to themselves, unless they want it cut off. 

There’s a seedy bar in the center of Other London run by an even seedier barman, although common courtesy dictates that you don’t comment on it. Zolf and Feryn have been there a fair few times along with Sasha for some drinks, usually melting into the background lest someone realize they aren’t Other London proper. 

They stop before opening the door, Zolf holding his arm out to bar Feryn quickly.

“Please don’t get into a fight,” Zolf says, and Feryn gives him an offended look. 

“Of the two of us, you think I’m the one who’s going to get in a fight? Maybe time to do some more soul-searching, kid,” Feryn teases, poking Zolf in the rib. Zolf scowls up at him, and Feryn pokes him again. “See? That face is just  itching for a fight.”

Zolf doesn’t honor that with a response, instead rolling his eyes and pushing the door open and stepping through. Feryn follows, hands in his pockets and looking as casual and unbothered as possible. 

The conversation in the bar is a low hum, and no one even turns to look at them when the door opens. They’re all busy in their own deals or trades, no one has time for two random dwarves who look like they’ve just stumbled in. Zolf cranes his neck and tries to peer around in the dim light. He catches a familiar jacket out of the corner of his eye and tugs on Feryn’s sleeve, nodding toward a table near the back of the room. They both head over together. 

“All right, Sasha?” Zolf greets her, and Sasha turns to give him a nod, hands still in her pockets. Feryn gives her a little wave from behind him, and an echo of a smile flits across her face.

”Haven’t seen you two in a bit,” Sasha says, gesturing to the two seats next to her with her glass. She holds two fingers up in the direction of the bar and a small gnome scurries over, plopping down two more drinks on the table. Zolf takes him gratefully and drinks nearly half of it. It’s been a hell of a day. He gently sets the tankard back on the table as Feryn does the same.

“Oi, boss, what happened to you?” Sasha asks, tilting her head as she reaches out to poke at Zolf’s nose. It’s only just started to bruise, but it hurts like hell, and he winces and pulls away from her hand.

“Had a less than friendly visitor. They didn’t like how my face looked much,” Zolf says dryly, touching his own nose gingerly. “Bit of a dick.”

“Sorry, you got  attacked?”  Sasha asks, sounding incredulous. “By who?”

“That’s kind of what we need your help with,” Zolf says, trading a look with Feryn. “They disappeared before we could figure out who they were.”

Sasha laughs, quiet. “Shoulda tied ‘em up.” 

Zolf sighs. “We know, but. Too late for that now, yeah?”

“I’ve always said I could teach you both a thing or two about interrogation, I’ve had a lot of practice on both sides of it, and, well. Last time I got all the info we needed out of poor Gerry, I did, and -“

“Oi, we didn’t completely muck it up,” Feryn interrupts, offended, and points down to Zolf’s gloves. “Learned Zolf here isn’t the only one like this, according to them.”

“There’s someone else like you?” Sasha asks, raising an eyebrow as she lowers her voice. “What, like, bringing people back to life, ‘n all that?”

“Opposite, apparently, and he’s evil as all hell according to this guy,” Zolf explains, matching her volume. “But they didn’t have any information on who it could be, or where, so we’re on our own there. Figured you might be able to help.”

Sasha clinks her tankard with his. “Good to see you too, boss,” she says, and takes a long sip. 

“Flair for the overdramatic never gone away, eh, Sasha?” Zolf says. “C’mon, you know I’m always pleased to see you.” 

If Zolf didn’t know any better, he’d swear to the few gods he still believed in that Sasha got a bit of a blush high in her cheeks at that. It’s true, though; she’s a sister to him by this point, regardless of blood relation, and he knows Feryn feels the same. 

“We goin’ to save the world, boss?” Sasha asks, and Zolf shrugs. 

“Guess we have to, don’t we?” he says, looking between her and Feryn. “No one else will.”

“Alright, then,” Sasha says, draining the rest of her glass. “It’s been a boring week anyway.”

“Any ideas?” Zolf asks, and Sasha drums her fingers on the table for a moment. 

“C’mere,” Sasha says, and silently slips away from the table, heading over to the bar and leaning against it, knocking her glass against the bar. The bartender straightens up, tossing a towel over his shoulder as he ambles over, matching Sasha’s pose. 

“All right, Sasha?” he says, giving Zolf and Feryn a long look, frowning slightly. 

“Trouble you for a refill, Grag?” Sasha asks, holding out her cup. Grag grunts and takes the cup, pulling it behind the bar for a moment as he pours her another ale. He slides it across the counter as he finishes up, and Sasha leans forward with a faint smile. 

“Cheers, mate,” she says, taking a swig and flipping him a copper piece that immediately finds its way into the till. “Got a few questions as well, maybe you can help?”

“For you? Sure. But they’ve gotta go,” Grag says, pointing at Zolf and Feryn. “Don’t recognize ‘em.”

Sasha shakes her head. “They’re with me. I can vouch for them.”

“You trust them?” Grag asks, and Zolf tries not to be insulted by the disbelieving tone in his voice.

“Yeah,” Sasha says, “as much as I trust Bi Ming, so they’re on the level.”

This gets a bit more of a reaction, with Grag giving the two of them an almost surprised look. He grunts and turns back to Sasha, still effectively cutting Zolf and Feryn out of the conversation, regardless of what Sasha said. “What d’you need?”

“Lookin’ for rumors about er - what was it, Zolf?” Sasha asks, and Zolf takes a small step forward, keeping his voice low.

“Me and my brother learned there was someone strutting about killing people with a touch. Probably wearing gloves. We want to stop him,” Zolf explains. Grag doesn’t look as taken aback by that as Zolf thought he might, a single raised eyebrow his only reaction. He supposes when you live in Other London, rumors like these must be a dime a dozen. 

Grag doesn’t respond for a minute, absentmindedly cleaning a tankard with a rag that looks dirtier than the cup had been, and Zolf suddenly regrets having had a drink. Feryn seems just as disgusted as he feels, although Zolf’s pretty sure that his brother is hiding it better. 

“You’ll want to check in with Gr- you-know-who,” Grag says eventually, giving Zolf and Feryn a suspicious look out of the corner of his eye before going back to cleaning glasses. “He was spoutin’ something like that recently.”

“Cheers, Grag,” Sasha says, giving him a wink. Grag acknowledges it with nothing more than a slight incline of his head, almost like he’s pretending they aren’t there. Sasha grabs Zolf and Feryn by the back of their coats and pulls them away from the bar, dragging them back out onto the street. 

Zolf supposes it could have gone worse; the last time they’d been in Other London, Sasha’d ended up having to break up a fight before it could get started when someone started making comments about Zolf’s prosthetic. So far, this has been a much more peaceful trip. 

“So. Who are we looking for, exactly?” Zolf asks, exchanging a confused look with Feryn, who shrugs.

“You’ll see. He does a good job at keeping up a network outside of Other London, and I trust him more than most down here. That’s rare, mind,” she explains, and Zolf nods. In all the years he’s known Sasha, he’s never heard her say she trusts anyone in Other London, apart from some old bloke who raised her, named Mr. Gussett if Zolf remembers it right. 

“Just… stay close. You two stick out,” Sasha says under her breath, and Zolf’s pretty sure he sees a glint of silver slip into her sleeve when she pulls her hand back out of her pocket. He kind of wishes he’d thought to bring his own glaive, but that’d stick out like a sore thumb down here. Maybe he should have palmed a knife from the kitchen, just so he had something to make him feel a bit more secure. Still, Sasha’s the master, and as long as they stick with her, no one should mess with them. 

They make their way down a few alleyways, keeping their eyes carefully averted from any backend deals they might see, and spill out onto an overcrowded street. Sasha immediately melts into the crowd; Zolf and Feryn are a bit less subtle, pushing through people and ignoring the dirty looks they get as they try not to lose her. Eventually, the stream of people slows and they find themselves in front of a decrepit house, looking as though it’s nearly falling apart at the top. Sasha motions to both of them to be quiet, looking both ways down the road. Feryn and Zolf nod, moving in slightly closer. 

A smile flicks across Sasha’s face, and then she yells. “Oi, Grizzop! Let us in, mate!” Sasha calls, cupping her hands around her mouth before banging on the door they’re stood in front of. Zolf and Feryn both jump, glancing around frantically. No one looks at them, going about their business as usual. 

“Thought we were trying to be stealthy?” Zolf hisses out of the side of his mouth, and Sasha shrugs. 

“He shot someone’s knees off last year. People don’t really mess with him anymore.” She beckons the two of them to lean in a bit closer, and they do. “He didn’t mean to, and proper healed them after, but don’t tell anyone that. He likes the notoriety and the peace.”

The door in front of them is thrown open, and a grumpy-looking goblin peers up at them, quiver of arrows held in his hand as he frowns. “Stop  yelling , Sasha, you can just knock.”

“Forgot your password,” she says with a grin, and he rolls his eyes, mumbling something about stupid wannabe spies.

“When are you gonna let that go? It  wasn’t my idea . Not my fault I got roped into working with the most incompetent H -“ he cuts himself off as he sees Feryn and Zolf standing there, and immediately folds his arms, looking ten times more unfriendly. 

“Who the hell are you?” he says, and Zolf can already feel himself bristling.

“This here’s Zolf and Feryn. Old friends,” Sasha says. “We’ve got a few questions about some, er - strange creatures. Heard you might know something.”

“Might do. And you trust these two, Sasha?” the goblin asks, gesturing between Zolf and Feryn with the point of an arrow. 

“Why does everyone keep asking that?” Feryn mutters to Zolf. “I look trustworthy.  You less so, maybe, it’s the scowl, but  honestly. ”

Zolf elbows him in the side and Feryn hisses in pain, shooting him with a glare. Sasha and the goblin both ignore him, if they even heard him speak, and Sasha shrugs.

“With my life,” she says, and the goblin raises an eyebrow as he looks almost disbelievingly between them. “We can talk in front of them.”

“If you say so,” he says, frowning a bit. He leans back out of the doorway, giving them some room to get inside. Sasha ushers them in and Zolf leads the way; she brings up the rear, and the goblin shuts the door behind all of them. A number of mechanical gears start to whir the second the door shuts. Zolf turns back and watches as locks activate, shifting into place automatically. There’s a small glow around the locks, and he recognizes a few runes as they activate, shining against the metal. 

“Can’t be too careful down here, eh?” he hears, and turns to see the goblin fixing him with an unreadable stare. 

“Sorry, er -“ Zolf says, not completely sure what he’s apologizing for, but apologizing all the same. “Infusing tech with magic. It’s smart.”

The goblin doesn’t respond, instead just staring at Zolf as though he’s trying to get the measure of him. Zolf doesn’t break eye contact, and neither does the goblin, not until Sasha clears her throat. 

“Vesseek in?” Sasha asks, peeking her head around a corner, but the goblin just shakes his head. 

“They’re off on -“ he cuts himself off with another slightly suspicious look at Zolf and Feryn. “They’re out at the moment. I’ll tell ‘em you stopped in. Be sorry to miss you.”

“Cheers,” Sasha says absentmindedly, and then disappears down the hallway. Zolf follows the rest of them into what must be a small lounge; a few chairs and a sofa are crammed into the tight space. Sasha and Zolf take opposite ends of the couch and still end up nearly pressed together. Feryn commandeers one of the chairs, and the goblin grabs the other, scrambling up and crossing his legs as he peers at the three of them. 

“Name’s Grizzop,” he says finally, leaning back in his own chair. There’s a quiver full of silver arrows hanging precariously from a hook behind him, and Grizzop plucks one without looking, beginning to polish the tip while Zolf and Feryn grab two nearby chairs. Sasha remains standing, and even though Zolf can tell she trusts Grizzop, she’s still on edge. “Good to meet you.”

“This here’s Feryn and Zolf,” Sasha says, gesturing to each of them in turn. “Hoping you can help.”

“What d’you need?” Grizzop asks, grabbing another arrow from the quiver and working on cleaning it off. “You caught me at a good time, I just finished filing the new reports today.”

“Lookin’ for strange rumors about a man what can go around killing people with a touch,” Sasha explains. There’s a beat of silence where Grizzop just looks between the three of them before cackling, dry and sardonic.

“I’m gonna need a little bit more than that,” Grizzop says, raising an eyebrow. “Seems like a rumor someone looking to hone in on some turf would start.”

“Boss, you wanna chime in?” Sasha asks, turning to look at Zolf. He leans forward but Feryn speaks up before he can.

“Maybe something about them wearing gloves?” Feryn suggests, and Zolf shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. Grizzop clocks the motion but doesn’t say anything, although Zolf suspects that the goblin might be starting to get an inkling of what’s going on. It’s fine, he has to remind himself; Sasha trusts him, she wouldn’t have brought them here if she didn’t, and Zolf trusts Sasha. 

“... I’ve only heard rumors,” Grizzop says, leaning in close. “I’ve got a few contacts over there who mentioned a rumor about someone who always wore gloves. Even as a baby. Could be related.”

“Over where?” Zolf asks, trying to hide the spark of eagerness that’s flared up in his chest.

“Egypt. Cairo, to be specific. There aren’t a lot of details, but a few have mentioned that they’ve been warned against seeking out the man with brass gloves. Not much beyond that.”

“What’s his name?” Zolf asks, leaning forward in his seat. He can’t help the rush of disappointment when Grizzop just shakes his head.

“Can’t remember, mate. Not even sure if my contact told me it, or if they only shared the rumors.”

“You don’t have anything more specific?” Zolf says, and Grizzop shrugs.

“Don’t know how to break it to you, but er - wearing gloves isn’t that strange. Definitely not front page news. Makes for a bit of a good rumor to spread, but it usually loses the original connection by the time it makes it far enough.”

Feryn swears under his breath. Zolf agrees with the sentiment. “At least we have a location,” he says. It’s like building a jigsaw puzzle; every little piece they find gets them a little bit closer to having a full picture, and getting a location is just one more step ahead. “We have to get to Cairo. Now.”

“We can work out the logistics tomorrow,” Feryn says, clapping his hand down on Zolf’s shoulder. “Sleep on it, first. Your nose hasn’t even begun to heal yet, and we’ll all make better decisions on a long night's rest, okay?”

Zolf doesn’t like the idea, but it does make sense. They hadn’t even rested in between the attack and coming to find Sasha, instead running on pure adrenaline. Feryn’s always been the more rational of the two of them anyway, and as much as Zolf hates waiting, hates the idea that there’s someone out there tormenting people, using a perverse twist of the same exact power he has, he begrudgingly admits Feryn has a point.

“Thanks for the intel,” he tells Grizzop, and stands to leave. “Appreciated.”

“Mainly did it for Sasha, but you’re welcome,” he says, and Zolf shrugs. He doesn’t really care why he got the info, just that he got the info at all. Sasha and Feryn follow suit, Sasha leaning down to give Grizzop a quick hug before heading back to Zolf’s side. Grizzop doesn’t follow, but Zolf can feel his eyes on his back. 

“...Right. You three need some help?” Grizzop’s voice, out of nowhere, carries in from the room they’d just left. He appears at the entrance to the hallway, inspecting his bow one more time before slinging it over his back. “I’m a good shot. Could be of assistance.”

Zolf pauses, hand on the door as he’s just about to step out. “Why do you want to help? You don’t know either of us, you just know Sasha. What’s in it for you?” 

Grizzop rolls his eyes. “You know, I’m only in Other London by circumstance. Used to be a paladin, so you could say I’ve got a pretty strict moral code when it comes to big bads. The long and short of it is, sounds like you’re going up against someone pretty evil. I don’t like people like that, so I’m willing to offer my services.”

Zolf and Feryn share a look; Feryn shrugs, leaving the decision up to Zolf. Can’t hurt having more people on their side, and if Sasha trusts Grizzop enough to bring him in on this, Zolf’s willing to trust him as well. 

“Okay. You’re hired. Pay’s shite, though,” Zolf says, and Grizzop cackles. 

“Fine. I don’t care about money, anyway, have you seen this place? And before we get going… I’m not calling you boss,” Grizzop says, still laughing, and Zolf sighs. He’s gonna kill Sasha.

“I don’t - okay. I don’t actually want you to, so I guess that’s that problem sorted, now can we get on with it, please?”

Grizzop shrugs. “Whatever you say, mate.”

Zolf will take it. He pushes open the door and steps out into the dingy alleyway of Other London. Everyone files out behind him, and they stand there for a moment, a tight web of uncertainty and determination and nerves all at once.

“Tomorrow, then. To Cairo?” Zolf asks, and glances back at Sasha and Feryn. Sasha nods solemnly, and Feryn gives him a determined look; Grizzop, off to the side, looks impatient but excited, and gives him a sarcastic salute when Zolf makes eye contact. “Okay.”

To Cairo. 


	4. Chapter 4

Cairo is a long way away. Too long for Zolf’s patience on a normal day, and much too long when he knows there’s someone hurting other people on the other side of it. They decide to take an airship for the speed. Grizzop, Feryn, and Sasha are all fine; Zolf is  _ decidedly _ not. He spends most of the trip locked in the cabin he and Feryn are sharing hunched over a bucket. 

Feryn brings him some bread a couple of times a day, which he eats gratefully and seems to soak up some of the acid in his stomach, but most of the trip passes in a haze of nausea and sleeping. 

Sasha comes down to visit him a few times; she’s never been out of Other London proper, except to visit the two of them, and the airship is something Zolf knew she’d love. She talks about swinging through the rigging and helping the crew, and it doesn’t do much to lessen Zolf’s nausea but he’s happy at least one of them is able to have a great time. 

The journey passes slowly. Airships are efficient but slow, and it takes a few days for them to make it across Europe before touching down in Africa. 

“Hey. Zolf.” He feels someone shaking his shoulder and cracks open one eye, spotting Feryn looking down at him with a smile on his face. “No more airsickness. We just landed.”

“Thank the gods,” Zolf groans, and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He spends a few minutes getting his prosthetic more securely fastened, and then he and Feryn finish packing up. They both grab a rucksack and head out of the cabin, meeting up with Sasha and Grizzop on the deck of the ship before heading down the gangplank together. The captain waves them off with an extra sympathetic look toward Zolf, which he gives a weak smile to, and then they’re back on land. Zolf is tempted to kiss the ground, but the pavement is covered in sand and he thinks that might be a touch too dramatic. 

“Right,” Grizzop says, cracking his knuckles. “How are we supposed to find this guy?”

Zolf shrugs. “You’ve got some contacts here, yeah? Maybe we can connect with them, learn more about the rumors. Otherwise, we’re going to have to ask ourselves.”

Grizzop considers him for a moment. “There are a few people we can speak to, but I can’t promise they’re going to have any new information for us.”

“May as well give it a go,” Feryn suggests, and Grizzop shrugs, as much of an agreement as they’ll probably ever get. Zolf gestures for him to lead the way and he pauses for a minute, taking stock of the buildings surrounding them, and then snapping and setting off in what seems like a random direction. They all follow, some more apprehensive than others; Zolf gives Sasha a confused look, but she just shrugs and motions for him to keep walking. 

“He’s got an eidetic memory. Saw a map, knows the streets of Cairo just as well as anyone who grew up here probably,” she explains, and Zolf nods, impressed.

It’s not long before they stumble upon a shabby pub, and Grizzop leads the way inside, glancing both ways before heading toward a table with people of all different races, greeting them like they’re all old friends. Zolf supposes these are his contacts, and follows Grizzop over to the table, Feryn and Sasha bringing up the rear. 

Grizzop’s contacts don’t prove as helpful as Zolf had thought; it’s not their fault by any means, although Zolf is tired of all of them giving him and Feryn distrusting looks the second they see the two of them. But none of them are able to provide any more information, really. They’re able to narrow it down to a halfling, and probably a well-off one if they’re able to keep the rumor mill under control. But the basic idea remains the same: someone in gloves. One of the contacts thinks she heard something about the gloves being brass-colored, but she admits it’s not the best lead in the world. Zolf doesn’t complain; any piece of information is helpful, considering they’re basically trying to find a needle in a haystack. Cairo’s a big city, after all.

They decide to split up to cover more ground, although Feryn refuses to let Zolf go off on his own. He wants to roll his eyes at his brother but, well. He gets it. Sasha and Grizzop peel off from the both of them after they make plans for where they’ll meet up later, and then it’s just him and Feryn facing a busy street crowded with carriages, stalls, and people. 

“Well,” Feryn says, wrapping an arm around Zolf’s shoulders in a quick squeeze. “No time like the present, yeah?” 

Zolf nods, and together they set off into the crowd, looking for the halfling with the brass gloves. 

It only takes the better part of a day, which Zolf thinks might be something of a miracle. He’d been planning to spend at least a few days in Cairo trying to find this mystery man, but it turns out that he was nearly under their nose the entire time. It helps that not many people in Cairo wear gloves, but it still feels like a stroke of luck to actually have found him. 

Zolf is the one who spots him first; a tall-for-halflings halfling with brown skin, flanked by an orc with the pinkest armor he’s ever seen. She must be with the Aphrodite lot - he’s seen more Aphrodite temples than any other god here in Cairo. The halfling is laughing along with something she said, but it’s not that that drew Zolf’s attention. He’s wearing brass-colored gloves just as Zolf is, and here in the baking heat of the sun, it stands out. The gloves almost blend in with the rest of his outfit, and Zolf might have missed it if he wasn’t specifically looking for it. 

He signals to Feryn, a stall over, and they both reconvene. Zolf cranes his head over the crowd to look for Sasha and Grizzop before realizing he’s got no chance, and focuses on Feryn. 

“He’s there,” Zolf says, tilting his head in the direction of the halfling, and Feryn clocks it, nodding. “How do we get him alone? She’s got a  _ massive  _ ax and I don’t fancy our chances.”

“She’s got to leave him at some point, right? Or lose track. It’s busy here, it must happen all the time?” Feryn suggests, but Zolf frowns.

“Dunno. If Grizzop’s contacts were right, he’s pretty far up the aristocratic ladder. She could be a bodyguard or something.”

Feryn swears softly under his breath. “Could do. So, what do we do?”

As it turns out, their luck pulls through once more and seems to decide for them. The halfling pulls up short and Zolf and Feryn quickly duck behind a sign, pretending like they’re inspecting some fruit. 

His voice carries over the din. “Oh, I need to go check another stall - I’ll only be a minute, Azu!” he calls, and the orc - Azu - looks conflicted but stays back, chatting with another shopkeeper. She doesn’t watch the halfling leave, and Zolf takes the opportunity to motion to Feryn to go around. He disappears into the crowd and Zolf sets off after the halfling, meandering along and looking at a few stalls without losing track of him. It’s not long before the halfling ducks down an alleyway to cut across to another street and Zolf follows, keeping enough of a distance so he doesn’t get caught yet. He knows Feryn is doubling around to cut off the halfling’s chances of escape, and once they pass completely out of sight of the crowd on the main street he picks up the pace. It’s still too soon to show his hand, but he doesn’t want to run the risk of the halfling escaping before they can question him. 

He spots Feryn when he appears at the end of the alleyway and the halfling spots him too, pace slowing as Feryn advances. It gives Zolf time to catch up, and then he’s grabbing the halfling from behind and holding his hand over his mouth, pulling him into a darker area of the hallway. 

The halfling struggles in his grip but can’t break it, and his shouts of surprise are muffled by Zolf’s hand. It’s easy to pull him aside while Feryn checks to make sure they haven’t been noticed. Zolf’s sure Sasha and Grizzop will turn u eventually; just because Zolf couldn't see them doesn’t mean Sasha didn’t have an eye on them at all times. He drops his hand from the halfling’s mouth to spin him around, making sure his back collides hard with the brick wall. 

“Tell me who you are,” Zolf says, making sure his own face is covered in the shadow of the alleyway. The halfling whimpers in front of him. 

“Please, I’ll give you all the gold I have, just let me go,  _ please,” _ he babbles. “I promise I won’t tell anyone, just take my money and I’ll pretend nothing happened.”

“Why are you wearing gloves?” Zolf growls, pressing the halfling further into the brick. “Who else have you killed?”

“K -  _ killed _ ? What? No one!” the halfling squeaks, trying to shrink away from Zolf’s grip, but he holds him tight. “You must have the wrong person, I haven’t killed anyone, I  _ promise!” _

“I don’t believe you,” Zolf snarls, and something in the halfling’s gaze goes desperate.

“Is this supposed to be a move against my father? I promise, he’ll pay whatever you want for my safety, just - don’t kill me!” 

If it’s an act, it sure is a damn good one. He looks absolutely terrified and almost on the verge of tears, nothing like the great destroyer of worlds that the cultists had seemed to worship. If Zolf didn’t know better, didn’t know the power he held in his hands, he’d almost have bought that this was the wrong guy, that they’d grabbed the wrong one. Plus, the gloves were a dead giveaway. 

“Aren’t you -“ Feryn starts, giving Zolf a shrug when he gives him a look that definitely asks what the hell he’s doing. “We’ve heard some rumors about you, and uh. Your powers.”

The stranger’s face goes blank too quickly for it to be real. “P-powers? What powers? I have some magic powers, I did study it at university, but I was rubbish! Sometimes spells just… happen? But er - no other powers! Nothing!” His voice gets higher as he continues talking, until it’s reached a pitch higher than Zolf thinks he’s ever heard before. 

“You’re a bad liar,” Sasha says as she melts in from the shadows, and the stranger gives a squeak as he jumps in shock. 

“How! Many of you! Are there!” he yells, hand clutching at his chest as he backs away, hitting a wall as Zolf, Feryn, and Sasha surround him. Sasha’s got a knife out, which is always a lovely touch when intimidating someone, and Zolf hopes his own expression is less confused and more intimidating as the stranger stares up at the three of them. 

“Enough,” Grizzop says from the end of the alleyway, arrow nocked as he sidles up to stand next to Zolf and Feryn. The halfling gives a weak whimper, glancing between all of them; Sasha and Grizzop, at the very least, look like they mean business, and Zolf knows that he and Feryn can look proper intimidating when they want, and the halfling definitely seems to be feeling it. “You should really consider telling the truth, mate.”

“Okay!” the stranger says, eyeing Grizzop’s bow worriedly. “Okay, fine, I have powers, my hands do this really weird thing which is why I always have gloves on, and I really don’t know how you figured out it was me, but - but I don’t want to use the power! I swear!”

“Who have you killed?” Zolf asks again, and the halfling tears his gaze away from Grizzop’s bow to give him a confused look.

“I - I already said I  _ haven’t killed anyone!” _

“He’s telling the truth, Zolf,” Sasha interjects, and the halfling points at her. 

“I am! I swear!”

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Zolf finally says, and the sentiment is echoed on everyone else’s face, including the halfling, who keeps looking between all of them as though he’s hoping for some sort of explanation.

“Oi, boss,” Sasha says, leaning on Zolf’s shoulder as she whispers into his ear, too quiet for the halfling to hear. “Thought he was meant to be all scary and evil and such?” 

“Me too,” he mutters back, frowning. Something’s wrong, here, and the halfling is still looking up at him like he’s completely terrified, and Zolf gets a worrying sense of dread that maybe,  _ just _ maybe, they’ve mucked it up. They - the stranger who’s attacked him hadn’t even known where their so-called savior  _ was _ , it’s - it’s possible they hadn't known who they were talking about, not really. He lets go of the halfling and takes a step back, just far enough away that he can still grab him if he tries to run. “Alright. Do you have powers that can kill people?”

The halfling laughs, but it’s so obviously stilted and fake that Zolf just raises an eyebrow. “I - how would you even know about that?”

“This might come as a shock, but er - I’ve got similar powers,” Zolf explains, crossing his arms. “The opposite.”

“Really?” the halfling says, mouth dropping open. His gaze drifts down to Zolf’s hands and Zolf holds them up as an admission, black gloves nearly blending into the dark coat he wears. “I didn’t - didn’t know there was anyone else.”

“Yeah, well, me neither. Not until recently.”

“So, then what was all this about?” the halfling asks, rubbing at his arm. It’s probably going to bruise, and Zolf feels a moment of regret for pushing him against the bricks. 

“Er -I’m… supposed to kill you?” Zolf says, exchanging a glance with Feryn and Sasha, both of whom look just as confused and off-step as he feels. 

“ _ Kill _ me?” the stranger exclaims, glove-covered hands coming up to cover his mouth with shock. “Why - what, why do you want to  _ kill  _ me? I don’t even know you!”

“We heard there was someone in Cairo what could kill a man with only his hands, and that he was going around offing people left and right,” Zolf says. 

“Wait, you thought that was  _ me?” _ the stranger says, mouth dropping open. “I mean - I mean I suppose the descriptions fit, I do wear gloves and that’s - that  _ is  _ me, but - but I don’t want to  _ hurt  _ anyone!” 

“Why should we believe you?” Feryn asks, arms crossed. 

“I swear on the life of my family, I don’t want to hurt people. And to prove it,I’ll tell you everything, I promise -“ the stranger says. ““My name is Hamid, I’ve lived in Cairo for my whole life, and I’ve only ever killed one person but I was a few hours  _ old _ at the time, I didn’t mean to do it,” he says, and there’s genuine regret in his voice. “I don’t know where I got my powers from, but they’ve always just…  _ been  _ there, I suppose?”

He continues on with the story; it’s a tale that’s almost too similar to Zolf’s own; he’d been born with the powers, and they’d been discovered much sooner than Zolf’s had. It makes sense; it’s much easier when the outcome is a sudden, immediate death as opposed to extending life. He’s been wearing gloves for longer than he can remember, and he’s known about the power since he was old enough to understand.

“I hate it, you know?” he says, giving a slightly self-deprecating laugh. “It’s a terrible power to have. I - I never  _ wanted _ it. You always - you always hear the stories of people getting powers to  _ save _ people, not… not  _ this.” _

Zolf does know, although his situation is a bit different than Hamid’s. It’s - at least he doesn’t have to cope with the fact that taking his gloves off would spell certain death for anyone unlucky to come in contact with his hands. 

“Do you believe me now?” Hamid asks, and Zolf and Feryn exchange a look. Zolf gives Sasha a look; she’s much better at twigging when people are telling the truth than he is, and she gives him a nod. That’s enough for Zolf - he’d been pretty certain of it before, but it’s nice to have the confirmation.

“Yes. We do.”

—

To say Hamid has been having, well,  _ a day _ is rather an understatement, he thinks. It had started out wonderfully; he’d woken to the sun and birdsong right outside the window, and all the servants had had breakfast ready for them the moment he’d gotten out of bed. His parents had been up early, father already gone to work and mother sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea. Hamid’d gone over and pressed a kiss to her forehead, and let her smile up and him and cup his cheek in her hand before sitting down in his own seat. 

Breakfast had been a quiet affair; his mother asked him some questions about his plans for the day, and he responded, and then the twins came downstairs in a whirlwind and ran around him like tornadoes, babbling at a thousand miles about something he couldn’t quite understand. Saira and Aziza had been next, heads close together as they giggled about something Hamid couldn’t make out. 

“Where’s Saleh?” he asks Saira when she comes to sit beside him, and she shoots a quick glance over at their mother, making sure she’s absorbed with whatever the twins are talking about now, before leaning closer to him.

“Aziza had to go and pick him up from the casino yesterday. He’s sleeping off a hangover in his room. Mama and Baba don’t know yet, so keep it a secret?” Saira says, tapping the side of her finger against her lips.

“Of course,” Hamid whispers back, nodding. It’s not as surprising as he wishes it were; Saleh’s been in and out of casinos and pubs for the better part of a year, and it usually falls to Aziza or Hamid to scrape him back up off the ground when he gets too drunk to see straight. That’s all become par for the course, and he’s sure their father will be stepping in soon. 

So all in all, a quiet morning. It’s when he and Azu make it down to the marketplace that things really start to go wrong. For starters, he notices the stall with his favorite tea hadn’t made it down this week, and then he realizes he’s forgotten his change purse back at the house, and then he it starts to rain (however briefly) _ ,  _ and - well, it’s been a long morning, and the afternoon seemed to be heading in much the same direction. He’d split off from Azu for a moment when he’d noticed the two dwarven men following him. They weren’t particularly subtle, and Hamid isn’t always as dumb as his siblings might think. 

It hadn’t been a  _ fun  _ interaction; Hamid isn’t completely sure what he was thinking when he’d decided to try and confront them alone, and he’s got the bruising on his back to prove it. 

Still, at least they’d all finally gotten somewhere. They’d only believed him when he’d confessed to the entire thing, and thankfully took him at face value instead of asking for a demonstration. He doesn’t even remember the last time he’d taken the gloves  _ off _ , apart from showering, and even then sometimes he’s too worried to, afraid he’ll forget to put them back on and touch someone he loves. So this idea of him being this… evil sorcerer who uses his powers to kill people is just - well, it’s laughable. 

It doesn’t take long after the confession when he decides that he wants to help. If someone is spreading rumors about him, or expects him to become some sort of - sort of… dark messiah, or something similarly banal, he wants to show them they’re wrong. The power he has in his hands… he hadn’t been  _ lying.  _ He doesn’t want it. No one should have this power, and he’s not going to use it to help anyone who wants to hurt other people. 

The dwarf has finally let him go, which is nice, and he’s trying to figure out a good way to convince them to let him join their little gang when everything does get a bit  _ more _ stressful, if that’s even possible, as Azu comes crashing through the alleyway, armor clanking as she calls his name. 

“Oh, Azu! Over here!” he calls, and she appears at the front of the alleyway as he hurries over time greet her.

“Hamid!” Azu calls, pulling him so that he’s standing behind her while she goes for her ax.

Hamid scrambles out in front and holds his hands up to get her attention, trying to wave her down. She doesn’t seem to notice, eyes locked with suspicion on the other four people in the alleyway. Hamid doesn’t completely blame her, either, but he’d rather not alienate who could be the only people in the world who might have answers for him. 

“It’s okay, Azu! I’m fine, really. No need to worry!” he tries, and she finally looks down at him. It doesn’t look like she believes him, or that his words are doing anything to comfort her. “See?” he says, doing a quick turn to show how enthusiastically alright he is. It seems to mollify her a bit, but she’s still standing there, ax drawn, looking as though she’s ready to pounce any moment. 

“Were they threatening you?” Azu asks, and Hamid opens and closes his mouth a few times. He doesn’t want to lie to her, and not only because she can always tell when he’s fudging the truth, but he doesn’t want to worry her unduly. Plus, he can’t be sure she won’t lunge at the others anyway, once she hears Hamid had been hurt. 

“Only at first, but then - Azu, we figured it out!” Hamid says, talking faster and faster as she tries to move past him, knuckles white where they grip her ax. 

“What do you mean?” she asks, still trying to get past him, until Hamid puts his hands on her arms and starts bodily trying to push her backward. It doesn’t  _ work _ , not in the slightest; she’s got at least ten stone on him, but she does stop trying to push past, glancing down at him in confusion.

“It’s kind of a long story?” he says, looking over at the others. “But er - they’re alright, now. Just a misunderstanding!”

“Who are you all?” Azu says, giving them each suspicious glances. She doesn’t look as though she trusts them, not yet, and Hamid doesn’t blame her. But she’s at least listening to him and giving them the benefit of the doubt, which he appreciates more than he can say. 

“This is - well, I don’t actually know their names?” Hamid says, giving all of them a confused look. The statement doesn’t seem to give Azu any more confidence in his actions, but it’s fine. He’ll definitely have to apologize to her later, but for now he’s more interested in getting more information about what the smaller dwarf alluded to. 

“I’m Zolf,” he says, stepping forward. “This here’s my older brother, Feryn, and then we’ve got Grizzop and Sasha.”

Grizzop gives a little wave and then puts his bow away, storing it neatly in a compartment on his back.

“What did you want with Hamid?” Azu asks, and Zolf starts to explain. When he gets to the part about Hamid’s hands, Azu lets out a slight gasp and turns to Hamid, completely ignoring him as Zolf stands there, half in the middle of a sentence.

“How did they find out?” she asks, and Hamid shrugs.

“Got attacked by some cultist. Wanted to tell me all about, well. What they thought Hamid was, anyway, which doesn’t seem to be the case. Sorry, again,” he says, looking more chagrined than Hamid had been expecting him to. 

“I’m going to go and help them figure out who’s doing this,” Hamid says, ignoring Zolf’s emotionless “ _ What.”  _ from behind him. “They think I’m… I’m  _ evil _ , or something. I can’t just let that go.”

Azu looks at him for a moment, expression inscrutable, but it almost feels like she’s sizing him up. “I will help as well,” Azu says, finally putting her ax away as she nods solemnly. Hamid knows he won’t be able to dissuade her otherwise, and he thinks he’ll be grateful for the company. He glances at the other four; Sasha and Grizzop are both staring at the ax appreciatively, so he doesn’t think he’ll be alone in wanting Azu to join them. 

“Well! What’s the next step?” Hamid asks eventually, and Zolf, Feryn, Grizzop, and Sasha all exchange a look. “You… you do have a plan? 

“We’re kind of as in the dark about this as you,” Zolf admits, and Hamid may have misevaluated how dangerous this group was if they didn’t even have a  _ plan. _

“Right,” Hamid says, clapping his hands. “Let’s all go back to my family’s home and we can… oh, I don’t know, compare notes? Figure out where to go next? You all must have  _ some  _ idea. And we can get some food as well, I skipped breakfast and I’m  _ starving _ .”

He turns smartly on his heel and starts heading back out of the alley and up the main street, not looking behind him as he assumes the rest will follow behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dk why this chapter was kicking my ass just that it was and i’m not super happy with it but whatever we got where we needed to go and everything is plotted out so!!! thanks abbegail for helping


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was gonna be longer but :) :) 
> 
> casual reminder that zolf smith is a whole ass ace bi man. just wanted to make a general reminder! respecting content creators is good :)

Hamid’s home is  _ massive _ . Zolf figured they were heading to one of the larger homes in the city; Cairo is well known for its wealth and opulence, although it’s much more understated than France. This is - well, there are guards at the gate who let Hamid and the rest of them pass without question, and Zolf thinks he hears Sasha stifle a slight whine when she looks at the golden front gates. It’s truly an estate, with sprawling gardens and hills that cover an immense distance. Zolf and Feryn exchange a look and see Sasha and Grizzop doing the same just behind them. Hamid and Azu don’t seem to notice, chatting just up ahead. They reach the front door and Zolf catches Sasha’s eyes nearly bug out of her head (but  _ subtly, _ of course) when they rock up, spying adamantine and gold and silver. 

“My mother should be off with her friends right now;” Hamid explains, pushing open the door to what’s much more like a mansion or an estate than just a  _ house _ . Their front room is about the size of Zolf and Feryn’s entire cottage, and Zolf can’t help feeling out of his element. “Everyone else in the family should be at work, and then the twins are at school. My brother’s nursing a hangover, so he won’t be waking up anytime soon. We should be able to talk here without anyone overhearing.” 

He leads them through the front room and into a large dining area, motioning for them all to take a seat. “Please, make yourselves comfortable, I’ll have the servants bring us lunch.” Hamid rings a small bell on the side of the wall and two other halflings appear promptly, nodding at his every word before scurrying off again. “I’ve told them we’re not to be disturbed as well.”

“And that, like… works?” Sasha says, staring suspiciously after them as they leave. She’s hunched in on herself, hands tucked deep in her pockets as she glances around the room. Zolf’s pretty sure she’s keeping them there so she’s not tempted to nick anything, but if he happens to see a glint of silver disappearing into her pocket in a flash, he won’t say anything. He can’t blame her for the impulse, either; this place is proper fancy, probably worth more than every house in Other London combined.

“Of course,” Hamid replies, looking confused. “They respect our requests.”

Sasha doesn’t quite look like she believes him, slouching off to lean against the wall next to the door; she looks casual, nonchalant, but Zolf knows at least four places on her person where she’s got a knife stashed away (he knows there’s more, but Sasha won’t show him all the secret compartments). It wouldn’t take her long to draw one at all, and less if she’s using the wrist sheaths that Zolf’s definitely not supposed to know about. It’s not his fault Sasha sometimes shows up on his doorstep bloodied and weak just in time for him to dress her wounds instead of going to a doctor.

Hamid doesn’t seem like he picks up on it, chattering excitedly to Azu about something Zolf doesn’t really care about. The two of them sit down and he and Feryn follow suit. Grizzop does too after a moment, taking a seat on the other side of the table next to Hamid so that he can keep an eye on the door as well. 

The doors to the dining room swing open and Zolf jumps, hand drifting down to the knife that Sasha slipped him on their trip to Cairo. He sees Sasha and Grizzop tense, sees Feryn’s knuckles whiten on the table, but only servants come through, holding massive trays of food. They lay out an entire spread, nearly more food than Zolf would have in a week, and then they bow out of the room, hands clasped in front of them as Hamid thanks them. And then they’re alone again, but with piles of food lining the table in front of them. 

“Please, have as much as you’d like,” he says with a smile, before tucking in himself. Zolf and Feryn exchange a look; there’s something almost uncomfortable about this level of opulence, to them. Hamid and Azu don’t seem bothered by it, spooning different dishes onto their plates. Strangely enough, Sasha doesn’t seem that bothered, either, as she comes back to the table and starts loading her own plate up, although she’s clearly waiting for Hamid and Azu to take the first bite, and Grizzop is eyeing the food with a healthy amount of suspicion. Still, Zolf is hungry; the nausea he’d dealt with for the entire trip hadn’t let him do much in the way of proper food. And it does smell  _ amazing. _

With a shrug at Feryn, he reaches forward and begins loading up his own plate, but he does take a leaf out of Sasha’s book and wait for Hamid to take the first bite. Nothing happens after Hamid takes a spoonful, and he and Sasha hesitantly start eating themselves.

It’s  _ delicious.  _ Zolf should have expected, what with the fuss being made, but it’s still more rich than nearly any other food he can ever remember eating. Lunch is a quiet affair; Hamid eats more than the rest of the table apart from Grizzop, and then the servants come in and take everything away once more. 

“You know…” Zolf trails off, glancing between Azu and Hamid. “This doesn’t have to be your fight. Not if you don’t want it. I - I’m sorry for attacking you like that, but you don’t need to join up with us. We don’t know what could happen.”

Hamid laughs, but it’s not mean. “I think I’m well in it already?” he says, holding up a gloved hand. And, yeah, good shout, he’s got a fair point there. “And I can’t just… look the other way, not now. So thank you for the offer, but I’m going to help.”

“I am, too,” Azu adds, and reaches out to squeeze Hamid on the shoulder, giving Zolf a determined look. “Hamid’s right. We can’t ignore this, not now. We’re here for the long run.”

Zolf nods, and Hamid leans forward on the table, resting on his elbows, and looks between Feryn, Zolf, and Sasha. “So, what  _ do _ we know, then? You said they knew about  _ me _ , at least a little bit. Did the cultist who attacked you share anything else of note? They knew about  _ me _ , at least a little bit.”

“I mean, we really don’t know anything about  _ them _ ,” Zolf says, frowning. “We, er - didn’t get that much information out of the cultist, nothing about where they were.”

Sasha makes a noise over in the corner and Zolf rolls his eyes. “We know you could have done it better, I was a bit distracted by nearly being  _ killed _ , Sasha.” Sasha just grumbles again, nothing Zolf can make out, but he sees Feryn slap her lightly on the arm. She winces and rubs it, glaring at him a little bit, and Zolf sighs. 

“Anyway. We don’t know much. We knew about you, but that’s all we got. They… didn’t know  _ much _ , come to think of it.”

“Seems like whoever attacked you was an amateur. Think that was intentional?” Grizzop says, drumming his fingers on the table. He’s not wrong; it almost feels planned. Send someone in who doesn’t know anything, maybe they take him out, but if they  _ don’t… _ no real loss. It’s pragmatic, but it makes  _ sense.  _

“Must have been,” Zolf says, agreeing. Off to the side, Sasha nods.

“That’s - that’s so cruel,” Hamid says, frowning. 

“Yes, but it’s  _ strategic _ ,” Grizzop counters. Hamid sits back a little, still looking upset, and Zolf feels a slight pang in his heart. It’s funny, almost, how he ever thought  _ Hamid _ was the evil overlord ready to raze the world to the ground with a touch. 

“I suppose you’re right,” he says, a bit quieter than before, and turns to Zolf. “Anything else?”

“Er,” Zolf says, hedging a bit. Feryn nudges him in the side and nods, encouraging, and Zolf lets out a breath. “They said we were… selected. Chosen, somehow.”

“What, like… our  _ powers? _ It was predetermined?” Hamid asks, eyes wide.

“Something like that,” Zolf says, shrugging. “That’s all they said, at least. Really didn’t know much.” It’s frustrating to him; he knows they should have gotten more out of them, knows he and Feryn mucked it up a bit, and he knows Sasha doesn’t really  _ mean _ the comments she’s been making in that way, but it doesn’t mean he feels any better about it. They shouldn’t have let them disappear, should have kept an eye out. Maybe then they wouldn’t all be scrambling in the dark for scraps of information, waiting for a single clue to point them in the right direction. 

“Oi, Grizzop, you got any connections here we could use?” Sasha asks, and Grizzop shakes his head. She keeps her voice low, and Zolf swears her eyes dart back toward the door that the servants had left through. 

“None that would be useful,” Grizzop grumbles.

“The best option might just be asking around…” Hamid muses, playing with the tablecloth in front of him. He frowns, chewing on his lip. “Though, that would be quite obvious, I suppose… hmm.”

“Maybe one of the cults knows something about it?” Grizzop suggests. “I might not be with Artemis’ cult anymore, but I’m still with her. And we had  _ loads _ of myths just lying about.”

It’s not a bad idea; Zolf hasn’t been able to find any myths about this particular story yet, but then again how much is there to find in a small town with barely more than one road? In Cairo, they might have a chance. There’s bound to be sheafs and sheafs of paper with information about strange myths or rumors like this. There’s  _ got _ to be. 

“Any ideas on who’ll be the best option?” Zolf asks, looking between Hamid and Azu. 

“I don’t believe the cult of Aphrodite has any sort of literature about this,” she says slowly, brow furrowed. “There isn’t a temple of Hephaestus here, nor Athena. We may need to ask at them all.”

“Could split up,” Sasha suggests, and Grizzop nods. “Be faster that way.”

“Really don’t think we should,” Feryn says, hard look on his face. “Call it a gut feeling. I’d rather we all be together if something goes off.”

Zolf agrees, and across the table Azu nods as well. Especially in this city, so unfamiliar to most of them… he doesn’t want to end up in a dead end with no one to back him up. 

“It’s the best option we’ve got,” Zolf decides, and stands up from the table. “Hamid, Azu… you’ll know the best way around. Mind leading?” 

Hamid shakes his head. “Probably for the best. Azu? Is there one you think we should start with?”

Azu thinks for a moment, tapping her finger on the table. “Apollo is the closest, and the first in a long chain. It makes sense to start there.”

“Let’s go, then,” Feryn says, following Zolf’s lead as he stands. He lets Hamid lead the way out of the room, waiting for Zolf to be in line with his shoulder before starting to walk out.

This might not end up as anything; maybe they  _ won’t  _ find anything, but at least it’s one option they’ll be able to cross off their list. And Zolf needs to  _ do _ something, needs to move. He can tell Sasha’s got the same restlessness as him by how much she’s been tapping her leg. 

Nothing to do for it but go forward.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did someone ask for a nearly 6k chapter? no? have one anyway

The cult of Apollo is a complete bust, as is the cult of Poseidon and the cult of Artemis, much to Grizzop’s disappointment. They decide not to check with Aphrodite upon Azu’s suggestion, and Zolf’s willing to believe her on this one. They’ll have to travel somewhere else if they want to check out the other cults - Hamid says that Damascus has a number of temples, or even Paris, but Zolf isn’t sure if any either of those would help. Even though the gods all follow different creeds, their stories are largely the same. Zolf thinks that if they haven’t found something by now, or even  _ hints _ of a something, it’s safe to assume there won’t be anything at another temple. The thought isn’t terribly reassuring, especially considering that he really doesn’t have any other idea for what they can do. 

“We’ll just have to try something else,” Azu says determinedly, echoing his own thoughts. Hamid nods, although he looks despondent. Zolf feels the same, and he’s sure the rest do as well even if it’s not showing on their faces. The entire day’s been a bit of a bust, really; not incredibly helpful, any of this, and Zolf can’t help but feel like it’s been an entire waste of time. But there’s nothing he can do about it now except trudge onward, so that’s what he’s trying to do. 

“We can take a shortcut through this alleyway here, it leads right back to the street outside house,” Azu explains; Zolf thinks it might be better if they stayed on the main road, but Hamid and Azu look comfortable enough and, well. There’s six of them. They should be able to handle problems, if any come up at all. Sasha looks just as hesitant as he feels, but they still follow, bringing up the rear. 

The alley is empty and quiet, and it’s the middle of the afternoon. Maybe he’s overreacting. They all head inside and walk along silently.

Sasha pulls up abruptly and grabs at Zolf’s arm; he turns to give her a confused look, but she’s glancing up at the sky - no, not the  _ sky _ , the  _ rooftops _ . She’s scanning them, frown on her face, and Zolf looks up as well, looking for any movement.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Dunno. Thought I saw something,” she says, and there’s an undercurrent of tenseness in her tone that Zolf takes to mean she definitely saw something and doesn’t like what she saw. “We should get out of this alleyway. Now.”

Zolf’s known Sasha for long enough that he can spot a hint of nerves in her face as she clenches her jaw, and nods. He hurries up to the rest of the group and, quietly as he can, spreads the message of them needing to move a little bit quicker. Grizzop, Azu, and Feryn all instinctively glance up before nodding, and only Hamid looks a little bit confused before Zolf leans in.

“Cultists,” he explains, voice low, and Hamid’s face blanches. 

“Oh,  _ dear _ ,” he murmurs, steps picking up immediately as he moves slightly closer in between Zolf and Azu. 

Sasha’s bringing up the rear, with Grizzop and Feryn closer to the front, when Sasha’s proved right. 

An arrow, loosed from a nearby building, buries itself into Zolf’s bicep and he stumbles back, clutching at the wound. 

“Shite!” Zolf swears, before feeling around the arrow. It’s not deep, thankfully, and with a wince and a groan he pulls it out of his arm. The arm won’t be useless, but he’ll need to dress it later. 

“Zolf!” he hears Feryn call, and waves a hand go show he’s alright. 

“Take cover! They’ve got archers!” Zolf yells, and ducks behind a carriage himself. He isn’t completely sure which direction the arrows are coming through, but he’s relatively certain they’re up ahead. Sasha appears next to him, pressed tightly against the carriage, and glances from left to right, likely looking for anything she can use. Feryn and Grizzop must be holed up at the other end of the alleyway, hopefully okay, and Zolf has no clue where Hamid or Azu ended up. A small part of his brain starts whispering that this was their plan all along, that going into the alleyway was just an excuse to get them all at a disadvantage, but he bats the thought away with a frown, refusing to believe it. 

“All right, Sasha?” Zolf asks, and Sasha nods. 

“Didn’t get shot, so a right sight better than you, eh boss?” she says, but there’s no humor there. Zolf can relate. 

This was a trap. Completely and  _ utterly _ a trap, and they walked right into it, just like unsuspecting rats in a maze. And now the cultists have their high ground, raining arrows down on them while they wait here, unable to move for fear of getting hit. They need a plan. Need something to do, need a way to get up on those rooftops and take care of the archers. If the cultists could get on the ground, Zolf thinks they could take them, but he isn’t sure how many there are.

“Wait - Sasha. Did you get a count?”

They hear a yell from one of the cultists and then a crash; Zolf takes a second to peek out from behind the carriage and sees a black-robed figure lying in the wreckage of a couple of barrels, arrows sticking out at odd angles. 

Thank the gods for Grizzop. 

“No, couldn’t,” Sasha says, frowning. “But we’re surrounded.”

As if summoned by her words, there’s a loud cracking noise and three cultists appear at their end of the alleyway. From the similar crack they hear in the opposite direction, Zolf thinks it’s safe to assume Feryn and the rest are dealing with their own little group. They’re not moving at all, still far enough away that it would take them a while to make it to Zolf, Hamid and Sasha. 

He’s reminded eerily of the person who’d attacked him, standing completely still at the edge of the yard, but he doesn’t let himself shiver. 

“Zolf!” he hears, and glances to the left to see Hamid cowering behind a few overturned canisters. He’s just small enough to fit, but an arrow still whizzes just above his head and he ducks down more. “Are you okay?” 

“Could be better, thanks!” he calls back, arm still smarting. “You?”

“Oh, having a lovely time of it!” Hamid says, and then cringes again as a few arrows strike against the canisters he’s crouched behind. “What are we going to do?” 

“I’ll let you know when I have something!” Zolf says, and turns back to Sasha. Her face reflects the same stress and desperation he’s feeling, but they don’t have time to get bogged down in it.

Zolf racks his brains for anything they could do. It’s a bad situation all around. They got separated too easily; Zolf, Sasha, and Hamid all end up on one side of the alley while Feryn, Grizzop, and Azu must be all trapped on the other, cult members surrounding all of them, clad in black robes. Grizzop’s been able to take down a few archers but there’s still arrows raining down on them from the rooftops, and none of the rest of them have been able to help. Zolf’s only spotted one archer himself, but isn’t foolish enough to think there aren’t more. The cult members still aren’t moving, so Zolf tables that discussion for a time when he isn’t about to be skewered by arrows. 

“Anything?” he asks Sasha, who shakes her head and frowns. 

“I can’t even spot the archers. Give me a bit to think, okay?” she says, eyes darting around the buildings around them. Zolf wants to say they don’t really have a bit, and they still don’t know what’s going on with the other three or if they’re even - no. Not helpful. He doesn’t say anythig in the end; Sasha knows the situation just as well if not better than he does. 

He’s distracted by another volley of arrows hitting the place where Hamid is hiding, and the canisters beginning to shift more than they should be. If the canisters fall, Hamid will be a sitting target for however many archers they’ve got up there. He knows Grizzop is doing his best to pick them off, but there’s only so much he can do without putting himself at risk too. 

“Hamid,” Zolf says carefully, waiting for him to look over. “I’m going to count the arrows. When I say so,  _ run over here. _ Alright?” 

Another volley of arrows hits the canisters Hamid’s hidden behind, making them just that little bit more unstable. Hamid cowers behind them, hands over his head, and it’s clear they won’t last much longer.

“Are you sure that’s -“ Another volley of arrows this time, clinking off the metal. “Are you  _ sure  _ that’s the best idea you have?” 

“We don’t have any other ones, and we’re out of time!” 

“That’s not particularly reassuring!” Hamid yells back, and Zolf can see the panic starting to set in as he glances fearfully over at him. 

“Trust me!” Zolf says, holding a hand out in front of him. Hamid still doesn’t look all that convinced, but he bites his lip as he nods and shifts onto the balls of his feet, still staying low as he uses the canisters as a shield. 

Arrows hit the canister again and Zolf counts. They hit again. He counts. Same time each go, and so he gets ready for the next time they hit.

There’s the familiar clink of arrowheads against metal. “Hamid, go  _ now!”  _ Zolf yells, keeping an eye on the only archer he can actually see. Hamid listens, nearly stumbling in his mad dash over to their carriage, but no arrows hit him as Zolf reaches out and tugs him the last few feet as Hamid nearly collapses into his lap. He scrambles back immediately, face bright red, and Zolf has to keep holding onto his arms so he doesn’t accidentally scoot back into the line of fire. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Hamid exclaims, and copies Zolf’s stance, back pressing against the carriage as a shower of arrows hit the dust where he’s just been. 

“It’s fine,” Zolf says, short, and more than a little thankful that Hamid seems to be fine. “All good?” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Hamid says, smiling gratefully up at him. “Just in time, it seems.” 

They both look over at the canisters together; slowly but surely, with the impact from all the arrows, they’ve collapsed, providing a small barrier that would barely cover a baby halfling, much less a tall one. 

“Sasha, any ideas?” Zolf says, still not trusting the three cultists just stood at the two ends of the alleyway, blocking their only ways out. 

“The archers are the main problem. We could probably take out these guys one on one, but them being on the roofs means they can pick us off too easy. We can’t do anything.”

Grizzop isn't going to be able to take the archers down on his own, either, and Zolf’s not sure what spells or abilities Azu or Hamid may be packing, but he knows he and Feryn won’t be much help with that either. 

“Think you can get on the roof?” Zolf asks, and pulls Hamid a bit closer as another arrow just misses him while he yelps.

Sasha eyes the building next to them, scanning it up and down briefly. “Maybe. Cover me, boss.”

“Okay,” Zolf says. “Hamid, stay here.”

“Wh- Zolf,  _ wait!” _ Hamid calls, but Zolf’s already grabbed the biggest broken piece of wood he has and is using it as a shield, moving in time with Sasha as she makes it inside the building, clambering in through a window.

“Good luck!” he yells after her, and Sasha flashes him a thumbs up before disappearing up the stairs. Zolf makes it back to the carriage where Hamid is waiting and tosses the wood down, arms exhausted. “Sasha’s in. She’ll deal with the archers.”

“Okay,” Hamid says, sounding slightly overwhelmed, and then he reaches out to touch Zolf’s arm. “You’re still bleeding?”

Zolf glances down and shrugs, ignoring the sting of pain. “Suppose so. It’ll be fine, Hamid, don’t worry.” He turns back toward the street and waits, barely poking his head out from behind their cover as the first of the archers appears on the roof, stumbling before falling to the ground below, motionless. 

There’s a ripping sound next to him and he glances over, confused; Hamid’s cutting off a piece of his robe with a knife, not being incredibly careful. 

“What… are you doing?” Zolf asks, raising an eyebrow. Hamid finishes cutting through the robe and holds it up triumphantly.

“Wrapping your arm,” he explains, and holds out his hand, waiting for Zolf’s permission. “If that’s alright?” 

“Sure, er - Where’d you get a  _ knife _ ?” he asks, letting Hamid pull his sleeve up and carefully wrap the cloth around his arm. His tongue pokes out from between his lips a bit as he focuses on the task. 

“Sasha gave me one, said I needed to defend myself,” he says, before tucking the final strap under the rest as he pulls it tight. “There. Not my best work, but it should staunch the bleeding. We can fix it when we get back to the house.”

He sits back and Zolf pulls his sleeve down. The bandage feels secure, if a little thin, but Hamid’s right; it’ll at least get the job done until they can treat it properly or get a heal somewhere.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” he asks, and Hamid shrugs. 

“I have two younger brothers, I know how to deal with injuries,” Hamid says, and a faint smile creeps onto his face. “I’m not  _ completely  _ useless, you know.”

Zolf shoots him a quick smile. “Thanks.” He picks up a piece of plywood from the ground and hefts it in his hands, giving a few experimental swings. Should make for a good weapon, in a pinch. “Hamid. You got anything else on you besides that knife?” he asks, and Hamid starts fumbling around in the pockets of his robe.

“Oh!” he says, pulling a small crossbow from his waist. “I’ve got this, but I haven’t had to really use it in years.”

“Brilliant. Think you can still use it?” he asks, and Hamid shrugs.

“Probably?” he says, uncertain. “I suppose I have to, now.” 

He’s right about that, at least. The cultists move when Zolf isn’t looking at them, a rush of black robes that’s nearly silent as they look like they glide across the ground. He barely hears them coming, turning around just in time to dodge as they sling something at his head. It expands into a net as it hits the carriage they’d been hiding behind, and Hamid makes a squeak of alarm and ducks behind it again, out of Zolf’s sight. He doesn’t have time to think about it, instead wildly swinging at the first cultist who gets close. 

He lands a solid hit, and there’s a lovely crunching noise as the wood slams into their face. Blood spurts out from under their mask, falling to the dusty ground below, and they collapse on the ground with their face in their hands. 

The other two circle Zolf, a bit more hesitant than the first, and they all watch each other warily, neither willing to make the first move. Zolf tightens his grip on the plywood and figures someone’s going to have to strike sometime, so it might as well be him. He rushes forward, plywood swinging, but overestimates the distance and crashes past the cultist, plywood scraping along the ground before he can pick it up again. The one cultist is on him before he can think, tackling him to the ground, and it's with a strange sense of déjà vu that he wrestles with a black hooded figure across the dusty ground. 

He hears Hamid nearly shriek again and starts struggling harder, trying to reach above his head for anything on the ground he can use as a weapon. Fingers scrabbling along the ground, he hears Hamid’s crossbow go off followed by a muffled cry of pain that he doesn’t  _ think  _ is him, and sends a silent prayer up to whatever gods might be listening that Hamid will be able to handle himself. 

Should maybe send up a prayer for himself while he’s at it; the cultist has got their forearm pressed against his neck and Zolf’s struggling to breathe as they gain the advantage. One hand is still roaming on the ground, looking for a piece of wood or a rock or even a broken arrow,  _ anything _ , and the other is tugging desperately at the arm pressing down on him. He chokes slightly, and his vision is starting to go dark at the edges. 

Finally, his fingers chance upon something; a rock, smaller than he’d like, but it’ll do the job. He wraps his hand around it and swings with the last bit of his strength left, hitting the cultist square in the temple with the pointy end. 

They scream in pain and don’t get off of him, but Zolf’s finally able to breathe as they reel back, hand clutching the side of their head. From there, it’s easy to throw them off and roll, punching them square in the face for good measure, and they fall unconscious. Zolf stands, tossing the rock in his palm, and turns back to where Hamid’s standing over another cultist laying still on the ground. He looks terrified, face gone pale, and Zolf heads over and waves his hand in Hamid’s field of vision.

“All right, Hamid?” he says, and Hamid nods, swallowing. 

“You?” he asks, and Zolf glances back at the cultist he’d wrestled with, nodding as well. 

“We should find Feryn and the rest, get out of -“

“Zolf, behind you!” Hamid yells, pointing over his shoulder, and Zolf ducks as low as he can as Hamid raises the crossbow to chest level and fires. There’s a satisfying sound of the bolt hitting skin, and Zolf wastes no time in turning around and bringing his plywood down on the cultists shoulders as they curl in on themself. They collapse to the ground with a groan, barely moving, and Zolf breathes heavily, turning to look at the other two laying on the floor.

“Well done, Hamid,” Zolf says, grinning. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Hamid says, looking a little green around the gills but mostly together. His hands are still shaking a bit as he points his crossbow down at the floor. “Is that all of them?”

“Should be,” Zolf says, glancing over at the other end of the alleyway. Everything’s gone almost eerily silent, and he’s not sure if it’s a good thing or bad. He keeps the plywood in his hands and gestures at Hamid to keep the crossbow ready. They need to find Feryn and the others; they could still be trapped at the other end of the alleyway, struggling against their own set of cultists. Zolf goes to take a step around the carriage, plywood raised just in case one leaps out at him, and Hamid follows behind, crossbow raised. 

There’s a slight cracking noise from behind them and Zolf turns back on his heel, swearing as he sees nothing but imprints in the dust of where the three bodies lay. “ _ Shite.  _ Shite, shite,  _ shite,” _ he hisses, mentally kicking himself as he runs a hand through his hair. Of course. How on  _ earth _ did he forget -  _ damn.  _ Well, there go at least three options for clues to what they should do next. 

“Oh,  _ dear _ ,” Hamid says, peering around him as he notices as well. Zolf breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, irritated. 

He catches something glinting on the ground in the dusky evening sunlight, and tilts his head, glancing down. There’s a strange scattering of stones on the ground, a pale yellow color, and they look too smooth to be natural. Zolf bends over and picks them up, tossing one in his hand. “Oi, Hamid,” he calls, and Hamid hums in response, reloading his crossbow. “Think they dropped these.”

“What are they?” Hamid asks, poking at one of them. Nothing happens, but a strange insignia shimmers in the light. It almost looks like an ouroboros surrounding...  _ something _ , but the emblem’s almost been rubbed smooth on the stone. The light of the setting sun makes the stones look almost as though they’re glowing in his palm, against his dark gloves. “Oh! Do you recognize that emblem?” 

Zolf shakes his head. “No clue. Doesn’t look like any of the temple symbols I’ve seen before.” He can barely make it out as it is, but he doesn’t think it’s familiar to anything he’s seen before. Whatever they are, he doesn’t think the cultists were supposed to drop them. 

“What should we do with them? Maybe a historian would be able to puzzle out the emblem and tell us what it’s from,” Hamid suggests, but Zolf’s got a better and more immediate idea in mind. 

“Sasha’ll probably know what to do with them,” Zolf reasons. She’s been talking an awful lot recently about the work Mr. Gussett’s been having her do, a lot of appraisal work here and there, and if anyone has any clue what they are, she’ll be able to puzzle it out. He pockets the stones carefully - they might be the only clues they have, and he already fucked up not making sure the cultists couldn’t teleport away. 

“Should we be worried about how long it’s taking her?” Hamid asks, glancing up at the rooftops. 

“Nah, Sasha’s probably the best of all of us - save for maybe Grizzop, haven’t worked with him long enough to really know, I suppose, but, well. Sasha’s good at this type of stuff.” 

“That’s reassuring,” Hamid says, a strange note in his voice that Zolf simply doesn’t have the energy to decipher right now, and starts to head around the carriage. They need to find Feryn and the others, make sure there’s no one else waiting for them in the alleyway, and get out of there as soon as possible. Sasha can handle herself; she’s always been able to. 

A bomb goes off somewhere above them, followed by a loud shouted warning from Sasha, and the shockwaves shake the buildings around them. Nothing moves for a moment as everything settles back into places, albeit with a bit more groaning than may be safe. And then the building rumbles again and bits of the edge start to collapse, landing in the dust below. 

“Look out!” Zolf yells and snags Hamid’s arm before tugging him backwards where he collides with Zolf’s chest. Pieces of debris crash down where he was just standing, and Hamid stares ahead with eyes wide. “You okay?” 

He nods, but Zolf can still see the remnants of fear in his eyes. It hits him that Hamid probably hasn’t ever had to  _ deal  _ with this before, hasn’t had to confront death like this, and a twinge of sympathy runs through him. “I - yes. I’m fine. Thank you, er - you saved me.”

“Don’t mention it,” Zolf says, clapping him on the shoulder, and a ghost of a smile flashes briefly on Hamid’s face as he recognizes Zolf echoing his own words back to him.

The buildings look stable enough again, but Zolf still pulls Hamid by the arm to stand closer to the middle of the alleyway. The dust is still settling all around them, and Zolf squints toward the other end of the alley as he tries to make out the shapes through the dust. He thinks he can see Feryn and Azu, but Grizzop must still be ducking behind something. He hopes.

“They’ve gone, boss,” Sasha says, appearing just behind Zolf’s shoulder. He’s used to it, he doesn’t jump, but Hamid reacts like a scared cat, nearly leaping into Zolf’s arms as he clutches at his back, letting out a little scream.

“Yeah, she does that,” Zolf says, and Hamid turns to look at him before hastily stepping back, hands fluttering about as he brushes along the front of his robe. “Have you seen the others?”

The question’s answered for him as he sees Feryn peek out from behind debris at the other end of the alleyway, spot of blood on his face. He spots Zolf immediately and his shoulders sag with relief. 

“Zolf!” Feryn calls, running over, and then Zolf’s being wrapped up in a tight hug. “Gods, can’t these fucking cultists take a break?” 

“Glad you’re okay, mate,” Zolf says, hugging back, and Feryn claps him twice on the back.

“You too, kid. You too. Hamid, Sasha, you two alright? All ten fingers, all ten toes?” he asks, and Hamid gives him a thumbs up while Sasha nods. “Good. Now. How the  _ hell _ did they find us?” 

It’s a fair question; Zolf thought they’d covered their tracks well enough, but anything could have happened. And they weren’t  _ completely  _ subtle earlier, or even on the boat ride over. One whispered word to the wrong person and their entire journey could have been compromised. 

“I am not sure,” Azu says. She’s got a bit of a bruise forming on her cheek, and her armor looks like it’s taken a bit of a beating, but for the most part she seems fine. Grizzop does as well, apart from a large welt on the top of his skull and a slight cut on his ear. “Anyone at the temples could have said something, or could know the people who attacked us.”

There’s too many factors, too many loose ends. Zolf’s pretty sure it wasn’t any of them; he might not have trusted Hamid and Azu before now, but after spending the day with them and fighting side by side with Hamid, he can’t believe they’re being anything but honest. 

“How’d your fight go?” Feryn asks, sizing Zolf up. “Looks like you got in a fight with a dust devil and lost.”

“Laying on the ground does that to you,” Zolf says drily. “We’re fine. Hamid saved me, I saved him when Sasha almost crushed us - cheers for that, by the way - and then the cultists teleported away the second we turned our backs.” 

“Same over here. It’s damned annoying, that,” Grizzop says, frowning. “Would have liked to keep some around for a clue on what to do next.”

“Although...” Feryn says, holding up a scrap of a robe. “We did get this. Tore it off when we were fighting, but the bugger vanished before I could grab ‘em.”

“Ours did too. Archers?” Zolf asks, and Sasha makes a face very much like that of an upset cat as she shakes her head. 

“Vanished the second they hit the ground. No idea how they could time it so well,” she says, annoyance warring with a strange sort of admiration in her tone. Zolf’s used to her minor skills crushes, even on people on the other side, as is Feryn. Grizzop must have an idea too, since he just looks knowingly at her. Hamid and Azu look more than a little confused, but neither of them say anything. 

“Sasha? You got any ideas?” Zolf asks, and Feryn hands the scrap of robe over to her. She examines it for a while, rubbing her thumb back and forth over the fabric before holding it up to the light. She hands it back to Feryn with a shake of her head.

“Sorry. Cloth is difficult to place anyway, and it seems normal to me. Not getting anything special off it.”

“How about these?” Zolf asks, producing the small rocks from his bag and handing them over to her. She perks up at these, holding one up close to her eyes and she looks at it from all different angles.

“Now these are proper fancy, here. Seem almost entirely golden, so someone had a lot of resources to make these up,” she says, and then turns it over, glancing down at the strange insignia. 

“Anything?” Zolf asks, and waits as Sasha thumbs through the rest of the rocks. There’s an identical symbol on each of the rocks, but none of them are clear. 

“Dunno what it is…” she says, frowning. “Hard to make out. But I think… someone used to come around Mr. Gussett’s shop, yeah? Real posh, her, didn’t know her name. Something fancy. Anyway, she was proper rude, but Mr. Gussett liked her for some reason, not sure why. Think it’s cause she gave him loads of money every time she came by. This stone, here, well. Kind of looks like the same symbol of a brooch she had on her cloak.”

Zolf leans forward excitedly. “What else did you know about her?”

“Not much,” Sasha says. “Mr. Gussett was kind of cagey about her, which is weird because usually he tells me nearly everything, yeah? But nothing about her. I eavesdropped once, though. Gods, what was it…” she trails off, tossing the stones up in the air and unerringly catching them almost absentmindedly. “She said something about not being followed, and a job Bi Ming was working on, and she mentioned a  _ location… _ Rome,” she says, snapping her fingers. “It was Rome. Don’t know what about Rome, or where specifically, but it was definitely there.”

It’s as good a clue as any, and more then they’ve had to go off of yet. Zolf’s willing to take the chance - maybe do a bit more recon first, though, so they don’t end up in another Hamid situation like they had earlier. And they don’t really have anything else. They haven’t been able to trap a cultist yet, and the one they had been able to talk to either had been low-level enough to really not know anything or had been better at lying than Zolf and Feryn had given them credit for. 

Zolf’s pretty sure it’s the latter, but, well. Miracles can happen, he supposes.

“I think we should go to Rome,” he says, and is almost surprised to see Hamid nodding along with him. It makes sense; the mystery affects him just as much as it affects Zolf. “Anyone here ever been? Grizzop? Azu? Hamid?” 

Grizzop and Azu both shake their head, but Hamid just tilts his head, brow furrowed as though he’s trying to remember. “Not anytime I would remember?” he says, frowning. “I believe my parents took me and my older siblings there once when my father was looking into opening a branch of the al Tahan bank there, but I don’t recall any of the trip.”

“Well, it’ll be brand new territory for all of us, I suppose,” Zolf says, and Sasha raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Sure this is the right move, boss?” she asks, and Zolf just shrugs.

“We don’t have anything else. Could chase our tails here investigating all the other temples, but I don’t think that’s going to be helpful. Rome’s the best clue we’ve got.”

Sasha still doesn’t look completely convinced. “Zolf, I’m still not even sure the symbol is the same, I said it just  _ looks  _ similar,” she says. “I could be wrong. It happens.”

“Not often,” Zolf says, and Sasha only rolls her eyes a little bit at that, but it’s more fond and embarrassed than anything else. “I just - something about Rome feels right. And we don’t have any other leads. Worst case scenario, the entire thing’s a bust and we get a lovely trip out of it. Better than sitting here on our arses twiddling our thumbs.”

“Plus, if we’re right, they won’t be expecting us. Probably,” Feryn chimes in. “It’d be nice to have the upper hand for once.”

“Sounds good to me,” Grizzop says, a dangerous smile stretching across his face from ear to ear. 

“So that’s sorted. We’ll get to Rome and figure out where to go from there. Hopefully, we can figure out this entire mess and me and Hamid can finally understand why the hell we have these powers,” Zolf says. 

“We really shouldn’t be running off this late,” Hamid says, looking worriedly at where the sun is setting. “Plus, most of the sailors and captains are either already off or getting drunk in a pub somewhere near the docks.”

A bit of the fire goes out of Zolf at that, but Hamid raises a good point. It’ll be difficult to find passage to Rome at this late an hour, and they should retreat to the house for now, bandage up, and get some rest. Azu’s a paladin; she shouldn’t mind helping to patch them all up once they’re not in this alleyway anymore. Zolf’s neck still feels sore, and he’s sure there’s bruising underneath the collar of his ratty leather jacket. 

“Let’s all go back to mine. You all can stay in our guest rooms, and then we can going bright and early tomorrow morning. Preferably after breakfast?” Hamid says.

“Are you sure your family won’t mind?” Azu asks, looking worriedly at Hamid. “This is more than a few friends staying over.”

“Oh, they won’t have a reason to visit the guest wing, they don’t even have to know you all are here,” Hamid explains, smiling.  _ Must be nice to be rich _ , Zolf thinks.

“That works. Get a good night’s sleep tonight, be ready to go tomorrow morning. We’ll have to purchase tickets and catch a ship to Rome before they all set off. I don’t want to waste an entire day when we could be on our way.”

The rest of them nod, Hamid looking a little nervous at the prospect but not speaking up. They set off together toward Hamid’s home, Sasha and Grizzop conversing quietly behind Zolf as he plods ahead at Feryn’s side. There’s a nervous energy thrumming through his veins, and he can feel his hands trembling as he taps his finger against his thigh, a nervous tic he’s never been able to kick.

Tonight, they rest. Tomorrow… they leave to get answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feryn is a delight as a character bc we know next to nothing abt him beyond a short story and zolf’s backstory on patreon so he’s like this character that you can kind of mold to fit what you need in a story also I love him 
> 
> also? juggling six characters is so hard i’m trying to give everyone a slice of the pie but that’s so many people everyone can’t talk at once hhhhhh
> 
> also ALSo i’m trying so hard to get [redacted] in here but i don’t want to spoil people and also i genuinely don’t know if i could handle writing a seven person party i’m Already struggling fhdjdbddj


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello it is i i’m sorry i don’t have a posting schedule with his also i did crack nano !! not only with this fic, although considering this is maybe only halfway done and we’re already at 25k, gonna be a long one buds. anyway. enjoy !!

The quickest option for getting from Cairo to Rome is to take a carriage to the nearest seaport and hop on a boat to carry them across the Mediterranean. The journey is still going to take a few days, and Zolf’s trying not to let all of the nervous energy drive him insane. An airship might be faster, but he abjectly refuses to subject himself to that again. Azu and Hamid hadn’t opposed the ship, although Hamid had looked a little bit less than comfortable with the entire situation. 

Zolf’s perfectly fine with it; he’s always been a fan of ships. When he was a boy, he and Feryn used to go and sit out by the docks of the small town they lived in and watch as the white sails gently blew by, moving almost silently through the water apart from their loud foghorns. He’s always wanted to go on a ship, but their family was never rich enough to afford a trip.

He finishes packing up - it doesn’t take long, considering he’s only brought one bag, and even then only the essentials. Feryn’s packing his own rucksack in the corner, and finishes at about the same time as Zolf. 

“Zolf… you sure about this?” Feryn asks, coming over and resting his hand on Zolf’s shoulder. “You don’t - you don’t  _ have  _ to do this. This doesn’t have to be your fight.”

Zolf turns, smiling crookedly. “Feels like I should be saying that to you, mate. It’s my hands. My battle to fight, yeah?”

Feryn laughs and pulls him into a loose headlock before mussing up his hair. “Zolf, you’re my brother. Any battles you need to fight, expect to see me right there next to you. Okay?” 

“Yeah, Feryn,” Zolf says, swinging his rucksack over his shoulder. “All right.”

Grizzop and Sasha are already out in the lounge, talking quietly to each other when Feryn and Zolf emerge from the room they shared. Hamid and Azu are nowhere to be found, but it’s still a little early. The sun has barely even begun to rise, still mostly blocked by the mountains in the distance. The sky is a gorgeous light blue, with barely a cloud in the sky. At least it looks like a perfect day for sailing.

“Morning, you two,” Zolf greets, and Sasha and Grizzop both say hello, their own packs resting near them. 

“Either of you ever been on a boat before?” Zolf asks. 

“Only once,” Grizzop says. “Didn’t love it, but could have been worse, I suppose.”

“A ringing endorsement there, Grizzop,” Zolf says dryly, and Grizzop shrugs.

“You asked.”

Azu and Hamid come in soon after that; Azu already looks a bit frazzled, and Hamid is frowning as he holds onto the strap of a bag that’s nearly as big as he his. The story comes out in bursts; apparently, Azu had had to stop Hamid from bringing anything more than a single rucksack. he’d come out of his rooms with a few servants carrying a grand total of eight bags, and nothing anyone else said would dissuade Hamid from bringing that many. She’d eventually stepped in, and Hamid had finally listened to her, although not without a fair amount of pouting - and now they’re all ready to go, setting off and heading down the road toward the docks at the edge of the city. 

It’s dead easy to find a ship. The dock is packed full of them, and it barely even takes a little bribery of the captain, a scarred, tall human with dark skin, before she lets them aboard the ship without having bought tickets first. Rome isn’t the crew’s final destination, but they’ll be stopping to re-supply there before heading onwards, and she’s willing to drop the six of them off along the way. 

The ship is small and crowded; they each have to share a cabin, which Zolf had more or less been expecting. On a ship that size, he’s more surprised that they haven’t been relegated three to a room. Him and Feryn head into one room, Hamid and Azu take another, and Sasha and Grizzop take the third.

The trip should take about three days, barring a horrific accident or weather problems. Zolf thinks they've already had their fair share of bad luck already, but he isn’t going to rule anything out. 

He drops his rucksack under the hammock and looks out the small porthole in the room; he can see that the crew is preparing to cast off. 

“I’m going to take a nap. Didn’t sleep well last night, kept waiting for… dunno. Something,” Feryn says, yawning and stretching as he carefully climbs into one of the hammocks in the room. “Hmm. Surprisingly comfy, this. Wake me for supper?” 

“Sure,” Zolf says. “I’m going to head up, see us off. Sleep well.” 

Feryn gives him a sleepy thumbs up before turning over. Zolf blows out the candle in the corner of the room before leaving, shutting the door gently behind himself. It doesn’t surprise him that Feryn’s trying to catch a few more winks before the day gets started; he’s never been a morning person, really, used to too many nights working down in the mines. Zolf’s still wired from the excitement, too curious about what they might find in Zolf to be nervous about the lack of sleep. He’s got two more days after this one to relax and prepare, after all; for now, he’s got a ship to watch sail away. 

He makes it up onto the deck just in time. The crew are just untying the ropes from the dock below, half of them hauling up an anchor from water as they begin to set off. A set of steam engines click on somewhere belowdecks and the ship lurches forward, takes off with a cheer from a gathered crowd; the captain steers her unerringly into the early morning mist. The sun’s finally peeked out over the tops of the mountains, casting long shadows across the gently rippling waves. Zolf leans forward on the railing, looking off into the distance with a soft smile on his face. It’s all beautiful: the sight of the open sea, the cool morning breeze blowing around him and ruffling his beard. He’s comfortable out here, comfortable in a way he hasn’t felt in Somerset. Everything out here feels… free. New.

There’s a pathetic-sounding little moan from the opposite end of the boat and Zolf turns away from the gorgeous sight in front of him. Hamid is sitting alone on the deck, knees pulled up to his chest and head tucked between them. It’s a familiar enough position; he’d been the victim on the airship, but something about the slow, gently rocking motions of the ship through water almost seen to calm him. Hamid doesn’t look similarly comforted in the slightest, face pale and looking distinctly uncomfortable. 

“Feeling sick?” he asks once he’s made his way over there, and Hamid gives a pathetic nod before looking up at Zolf. 

“How long is the journey again?” he asks, and Zolf gives him a sympathetic look. 

“About three days, sorry,” he says, and Hamid just makes another small sound before tucking his head between his knees. Zolf knows how awful he feels firsthand, had dealt with it enough on the airship. The rocking motions of the ocean are much gentler to him, much less upsetting, but he wouldn’t wish the same feelings he had on anyone. Well. Probably not anyone. Depends on how annoyed he was. 

But -  _ not the time _ , Zolf reminds himself, instead sitting down next to Hamid. 

“Talking might help? Distract you, and such,” he offers, reaching out and resting his hand on Hamid’s shoulder. “Going belowdecks would probably be better as well. Less rocking.”

Hamid shakes his head again. “Don’t want to move; I’m scared I’ll throw up if I do.” He laughs, a bit self-conscious, and then turns his head, still resting on his arms, to stare over at Zolf. “I’m willing to try talking, I suppose.”

“Alright, er -“ Zolf starts, mind completely blanking on a topic they can talk about. 

“What do you think is waiting for us on the other side?” Hamid asks, in lieu of Zolf suggesting anything, and he’s only just able to hold back the sigh of relief. It’s a good question; Zolf’s not particularly sure himself, but he knows what he  _ wants _ there to be. 

“Hopefully? Answers,” he says, and Hamid hits him in the arm gently. 

“Well, obviously,” Hamid says, teasing note in his voice. “But do you think… I don’t know. Do you think they know we’re coming?”

It’s a worry Zolf’s been trying not to think about. It’s possible, of course, especially since some of their attackers escaped. “Hope not. Can’t say for certain, of course.”

“So we might need to be ready for an attack,” Hamid says slowly, worrying at his lip with his teeth. He hunches in on himself a bit more, arms wrapped around his knees, and Zolf leans forward to catch Hamid’s eye. 

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Zolf says. “They might think they got away with it, might not have any idea we’re coming. Think it’s about time we had the upper hand, yeah?” 

“I hope you’re right,” Hamid says, but there’s still a hint of worry around his mouth as he stares ahead. 

“Buck up, Hamid,” Zolf says, giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder as he teases a bit. “You’re their evil overlord, after all. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, gods,” Hamid whines, running a hand over his face and peeking through his fingers up at Zolf. “Don’t remind me.” 

“Sorry,” Zolf says with a laugh, and Hamid laughs quietly in return. He looks as though he’s perked up a bit, but Zolf can still tell he’s not completely comfortable with the idea. Zolf can’t blame him; he doesn’t think Hamid’s ever really had to experience anything like this, with the life he’s led. It’s not a judgment or anything, just an observation, but Zolf understands why Hamid might be a little more hesitant than the rest. He and Feryn have been lucky as well, but Zolf had learned how to fight at a younger age than he maybe should. Sasha and Grizzop both come from Other London, they’re used to this (although maybe not this  _ exact  _ situation…). And Zolf doesn’t know anything about Azu, but Feryn had said that she held herself well in the battle. 

The point is, all of them have experience; Hamid really doesn’t, although he seems to be learning quickly. He hasn’t had a complete breakdown yet, so he’s more hardy than he gives himself credit for. 

They sit there in silence for a moment as Hamid rests his head on his chin, staring ahead toward the middle of the boat. Zolf thinks he can see Sasha climbing somewhere in the ropes, just a blur in the distance, and hopes she’s tied herself off to something just in case. 

It’s a nice day out. The sun’s reached about the middle of the sky, beating down on all of them even as a cold air blows in off of the waves. Zolf can feel a mist settle over him every now and again as they crest a new wave and bob back down, and he’s sure his hair looks even more a mess than normal. 

“What do you think would happen if we touched hands?” Zolf wonders, eventually. “Without the gloves on,” he clarifies at Hamid’s slightly confused look. It’s something he’d been asking himself since they met; would both of their powers cancel each other out if they met? Or would Zolf drop dead, or would Hamid have a surge of energy. Life and death… which one holds more power? There’s a way they could - 

“I’m not trying,” Hamid says, putting a screeching halt on Zolf’s line of thinking. “Absolutely not.”

Zolf turns to look at him then, and there’s a thread of fear pushing through the cracks of Hamid’s carefully blank stare. He glances down, and Hamid’s hands are clenched in fists, gently trembling, on his lap. 

“Oh, gods, Hamid, I didn’t -“ he slouches a little, ashamed, and nervously plays with a loose thread on his trousers. Hamid has -  _ gods, Zolf, think for once in your life  _ \- Hamid’s hands, if he touches someone, kills them. Zolf’s hands just bring people back - or, if they’re already back, give them a bit of pep. It’s - he’s never really had to deal with the fear of touching people, not to the extent that Hamid has. “I’m sorry,” he says. It’s all he  _ can  _ say, really. 

Zolf still feels a bit of a heel, and it must show in his face, because Hamid waves it away gives him a shaky smile in return, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s alright, truly. And, Zolf… thank you for distracting me,” Hamid says, and his smile is warm enough to stave the chill of the air off as Zolf feels himself blush. “I think I’ll be heading down, see if I can get some rest.”

“Think you can make it down alright?” Zolf asks, helping Hamid get to his feet. Hamid’s hand is warm in his grip, and gone much too soon. 

“I’ll be fine, I think. Thank you, Zolf,” Hamid says, sincere, and Zolf can’t do much but nod, clearing his throat awkwardly. 

“Y - yeah, Hamid,” he says, grinning. “Anytime.”

Hamid smiles at him again, looking much less sick than he had, and heads off. He’s still a little unsteady on his feet, still needs to hold onto the railing as he walks away, and then he’s ducking belowdecks with a quick wave back at Zolf before he disappears. 

Zolf’s heart does a bit of a flip in his chest and he feels like he needs to sit down again. 

Oh. Oh  _ no. _

—

Sasha’s decided she loves boats. This one’s a bit small for her tastes, really, but she isn’t going to complain. For so long, she hasn’t been outside of London, and now here she is, sailing across the Mediterranean on a mission to help her friends with magic hands. She’d thought the open expands of space would make her nervous - nothing to hide behind, nowhere to kip where someone wouldn’t be able to find you - but it’s the exact opposite. She feels calm, here, with the wind blowing through her hair. 

The first day on the ship had passed by in a bit of a blur for her; the crew had been running around here and there, getting things sorted, so she’d hunkered down in her and Grizzop’s cabin so as to not be in the way. She’d watched the ship take off from the porthole in her room, watching as the endless expense of blue slowly glides by. The edge of Cairo disappears soon after, even though the boat isn’t moving they fast, and Sasha has a momentary burst of nausea as she gets used to the ship rocking back and forth. 

But today, the crew’s settled, and they’d answered her request to go up in the rigging of the ship with a shrug, a muttered, “Not our problem if she falls, lads,” and a rope to tie herself off to something in case she does fall. 

It’s well good, this; she doesn’t go up too high to start, a bit worried about falling into the unforgiving blue of the ocean below even with the rope tied off. But it’s still incredible, staring out over the horizon as the sun slowly starts to rise. She climbs down when her arms get tired of keeping her balance, instead perching almost on the bow of the ship as she watches the curve of the world off in the distance. 

Grizzop comes up eventually, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, before spotting Sasha and making a beeline for her.

“Wotcher,” he greets, eyeing the rope in her hands. “Er - we tying someone up?” 

Sasha shakes her head. “Was up in the rigging. They said to tie myself off to something, but where’s the fun in that, eh, Grizzop?”

His mouth stretches in a smile from ear to ear, and he hops up next to her, holding loosely onto the ropes. “Race you?” 

Sasha allows herself a quick smile before she’s off like a shot, Grizzop sputtering behind her as she takes the open advantage. She can hear him swear loudly before the ropes she’s holding onto shake a bit with the added weight. Grizzop scrambles up behind her, grumbling, and Sasha can’t help the short bark of laughter that’s pulled from her as she climbs. Grizzop nearly grabs onto her shoes as he gets closer, but Sasha shakes herself free and keeps moving. 

“Vesseek coming home soon?” Sasha tosses behind herself, pulling herself higher up in the ratlines. Grizzop follows suit, and together they reach the top of the mainmast, sitting there together as they watch the horizon in the distance. The ship is pulling along quietly, and the breeze ruffles her topsails. It’s salty and brisk, brushing against Sasha’s face and through her hair. 

“Yeah, should be. Been out for about a week longer than they should have been. Not sure why; they haven’t gotten word to me,” he says, hiding the anxiety and worry well enough if the person he was talking to wasn't Sasha. She knows how Grizzop gets when they’re off for a while, how the nervous energy can build and build until you need, well. A pop, of some kind. 

“You miss them, don’t you,” Sasha asks, as though it’s some sort of secret. Grizzop snorts as he leans back against the mast, shaking his head fondly.

“House is too quiet when they’re not around,” he says. Sasha gets it. Ever since she’d gotten out from under Barrett’s thumb all those years ago, she still checks around corners to see if his goons have finally decided to come after her. It had lessened, somewhat, when she’d stumbled into Feryn and Zolf’s lives. She hadn’t expected them to take a shine to her so quickly; Zolf’s got a big heart underneath all that gruff, and Sasha’s pretty sure Feryn’s never been able to see someone in need and keep walking. She’s lucky. Grizzop... Grizzop didn’t really have that, not like she did. 

Sasha doesn’t know much about Grizzop and Vesseek’s lives before they had shown up in Other London with an address written down on a sheet of paper. But she knows they’re as close as brothers, and consider each other family. Sasha’s only been a recent addition, having met Grizzop on a mission from a mutual acquaintance a year or so ago. They’d gotten the job done in half the time and doubled the payoff, and been fast friends ever since.

“Haven’t heard from them at all? Not even their handler?” Sasha asks. She knows who it is, and while it’s not uncommon for him to go radio silent about an operative, and he and Grizzop don’t get along  _ famously, _ they usually find a way to make it work. 

“Yeah, well. You-know-who’s being a right arse about it, as always,” Grizzop grumbles, crossing his arms as he stares ahead. “But when isn’t he?”

“Who, Wilde?” Sasha asks, and Grizzop holds a finger over his lips. She rolls her eyes; no one can even hear them up here, and gods know if anyone on the ship would even recognize the name. He’s done a good job at keeping a lower profile in the recent months. Sasha and Grizzop had had to teach him a few things, but he’s a quick study.

“Obviously him,” Grizzop says, frowning. “I just want to know if they’re safe. He doesn’t want to say anything, worried he’ll ‘compromise the mission’ or some rot. Just means he hasn’t heard from them either and doesn’t want to tell me.”

“They’ll be home soon,” Sasha says. She’s never been the best at encouraging, but she knows what it’s like to miss someone with every piece of her being. Grizzop and Vesseek remind her a lot of herself and Brock, and Brock came back to her, so Vesseek will have to come back to Grizzop. Plus, if Wilde was really worried, he’d be sending Grizzop in after them. He’s done it before, when they’ve been compromised, and Sasha had been the one to pay Wilde an irritated house call when they’d both shown up bleeding on her doorstep.

That’s in the past, though, and Vesseek will be okay this time around. They have to be. Otherwise, Wilde’ll be facing hell from two sides. 

But she needs to focus on this, now. Needs to figure out what the hell is happening with Zolf, who’s as good as family to her, and Hamid, who’s a little posh for her tastes but has a good heart. 

Grizzop must be thinking along the same lines as her, because he finally asks the question she’s been waiting for him to ask.

“So… what the hell’s the deal with Zolf and Hamid? Their hands are, what, magic?” Grizzop asks, and Sasha sighs as she leans back against the mast. It’s never been her story to tell, never been her secret to share, but she supposes its well out of the bag now. She doesn’t really know Hamid’s story, not really; maybe Azu or Hamid himself can shine some light on it, and she only knows the bare bones of Zolf’s story. 

“Yeah,” she says. “Zolf’s hands can bring people back to life. Heard about it a couple years ago. Apparently Hamid’s hands do the opposite, although. S’why they both wear gloves.”

“It’s a bit of a crazy story, is all,” Grizzop says, frowning. “You sure this is all true?”

Sasha nods. “I trust Zolf and Feryn,” she says. “Don’t know Hamid much, but what’s a rich guy like him gonna get out of haring off on a trip with a bunch of strangers? Figure he’s gotta have a stake in it. And, he really is  _ terrible _ at lying.”

Grizzop laughs. “Yeah, you got him in one, eh?” He quiets for a bit, staring off at the horizon. “Ever seen it?”

Sasha shakes her head. “Wouldn’t make Zolf do that. He told me. That’s enough.”

Grizzop nods. “You really trust them, huh?” 

“They’re my family, Grizzop,” Sasha says, and Grizzop gives her a toothy grin. “And yeah, you are too, don’t rub it in.”

They both fall silent at that, just content to sit with each other as the day steadily rolls by. The ocean feels more rocky up here, the ship moving more as they bop and dip back and forth. It’s calming, almost, and Sasha tries to resist the urge to rest her eyes for a moment. Regardless of how settled she feels, it’s a bad idea to do that when you’re forty foot above the ground.

“Oi, you two!” she hears out of nowhere, and in tandem both she and Grizzop lean over the edge of the mast to see a crewmember beckoning them to come down. “Got some gusts coming ahead, need you both back on the deck! Ain’t safe up there.”

Sasha lets out a small sigh. She’s enjoying being this high off the ground, this sequestered away from nearly everyone else, but she really  _ doesn’t  _ want to get knocked off into the ocean. Looks cold, and  _ damp _ , and she’s pretty sure knives don’t float. 

Grizzop stands up with a hand in the ropes and gestures for her to go first and, feeling a little disappointed, she climbs down to the deck. 

—

The trip passes both too fast and too slow. Zolf’s a bit nervous about what they’re going to find, but he wants to  _ know _ . There could be a reason for all this, an explanation for why himself and Hamid were the ones saddled with all this. And maybe - maybe there will be a way to end it. A way to be normal, to not have to worry about the gloves and the secret. 

It’s the last day of the trip, and they should be hitting Rome any moment now. There’s still nothing but mist slowly curling on the horizon, obscuring a lot of the visibility. Zolf is standing next to the railing with his fingers drumming on it, staring off into the mist in the faint hope of seeing the city begin to rise in the distance. 

“Should be landing soon,” Feryn says out of nowhere, leaning on the railing next to Zolf. Zolf startles a bit at the sound of his voice, already a little too on edge. “You alright, mate?”

Zolf… isn't sure. He still feels keyed up, still feels wired at the prospect of whatever Rome has to offer them. But he doesn’t want to worry Feryn. “I’m fine,” he says instead, and Feryn fixes him with a critical raise of an eyebrow.

“Zolf, you don’t have to lie to me, you know that right?” Feryn says, and Zolf lets out a sigh.

“Yeah, I know,” he says quietly, biting his lip. “And I’m really fine, honest, just. A bit amped, I suppose.”

Feryn nods. “I’d be surprised if you weren’t, to be honest. This is… well, it’s a lot, yeah? It’s okay to be a bit off in your head.”

Zolf nods, not sure what more there is to say, and Feryn turns around, surveying the rest of the boat as his elbows rest on the railing. 

“Oh, off he goes,” Feryn says quietly, and Zolf turns around and spots Hamid walking unsteadily along the railing of the ship before disappearing belowdecks. 

“You like him, don’t you?” Feryn says after Hamid’s disappeared, nudging Zolf in the side. 

“Wh - what? No, don’t be ridiculous, Feryn. I just - want us to figure out what’s going on. That’s it.”

“Zolf, c’mon. I’m not an idiot. I know when my little brother has a spot of a crush,” Feryn says, a faint smirk on his face. 

Zolf splutters a bit, and it’s clear from the expression on Feryn’s face that he doesn’t buy it for a second. “We’ve - we’ve only known Hamid and Azu for a few  _ days _ , Feryn,” Zolf says. “Come off it.”

“Whatever you say, Zolf,” Feryn says with a bit of a wink as he heads off to the small staircase. “I’ll finish up packing and bring your bag up, alright?”

Zolf rolls his eyes and definitely doesn’t shove at Feryn’s shoulder as he leaves. The boat continues to lurch forward as they sail along the sea, and Zolf’s anxiety only seems to increase as they get closer to Rome.

The sun is high overhead and the chill of the air has turned a bit less harsh, warming to an almost balmy degree as they sail closer to land. Zolf doesn’t move from his post at the railing all afternoon, staring off into the fog as he waits for some sign of the city. It doesn’t take long.

“Land ho!” a crewmember calls somewhere above them, and Zolf squints into the distance. 

A looming city rises out of the fog, tall stone towers and old buildings that look as though they’re half crumbling and broken. A wall curves around the city, made of completely black stone. The docks are nearly deserted, only a few small ships tied off to piers that look as though they’ve been abandoned for years. It’s not really what Zolf had been expecting, even here at the outskirts of the city. 

They’ve made it to Rome.

Azu comes up and stands beside him; Sasha and Grizzop are somewhere, probably above them, and Feryn is back in their cabin finishing the packing. Hamid was in his own room the last time Zolf checked, looking markedly better but still a little nauseous. 

“The city looks deserted,” she remarks, and there’s a hint of worry in her voice. “How sure is Sasha that the stones came from here?”

It’s a fair enough question, but Zolf knows Sasha was trained by the best of the best, so if Sasha says they came from here, they came from here. He tells Azu as much, and she looks a bit more comforted than she had before.

“What is our plan, for when we get into the city?” Azu asks, and Zolf shrugs. 

“Probably find a hotel, figure out where we need to go next. Sasha and Grizzop should have a few connections there, we might be able to use them,” he says. Azu nods, staring off at the city as it looms in the distance. 

“Why is it so… empty?” Zolf asks the captain as she shows up beside him on the main deck. “I thought this was a city where you could restock before the rest of the journey.”

“Oh, don’t be fooled, it is. Everything’s inside the walls now; Rome’s had some problems with pirates and looters in the past, so they made their city nigh impenetrable,” the captain explains, pointing to what looks like a small gate wedged into the side of the wall. “Only one entrance. Hard to sneak inside.”

It does seem to be, at that. The walls curve upward, almost like a cover over the city, and as much faith as Zolf has in Sasha’s ability to climb and sneak, he’s not sure she’d be able to get in. It looks like a fortress more so than a city.

“Any suggestions on where to stay? It was a bit of a late decision, this journey, and none of us are really familiar with the city,” he asks the captain, and she takes a moment to think, drumming her fingers on the railing.

“There are a few hotels on the main road - Rome isn’t a popular tourist destination by any stretch of the word, so they aren’t going to be luxurious, but they won’t be crowded, either.”

“Cheers,” Zolf says, and the captain gives him a short nod before heading back up to the wheel and chatting with one of the crewmembers, pointing ahead at the docks. 

“I’ll go let everyone know we’re here,” Azu says, and then she’s gone, heading back below decks as Zolf chews on the inside of his cheek. It’s a bit hard to believe they’re here, that they’re getting closer to finding whatever answers might exist about Hamid’s and his powers. 

The boat docks, as two crewmen jump off and start securing her to the pier. It still doesn’t look stable, but Zolf knows they really don’t have an option as the gangplank descends and the crew begin shuffling off one by one. 

Hamid and Feryn come up onto the deck, following behind a still-worried-looking Azu, although she’s masking it pretty well. Sasha and Grizzop appear from… well, somewhere, like they just swung down onto the deck, and together they all stand there, dwarfed by the impenetrable city. 

“That’s Rome?” Feryn asks, giving Zolf a concerned look. “Looks, er - unfriendly.”

It’s a bit on the nose, but it is correct. Hamid gives a bit of a concerned noise in agreement, and a similar look of distrust flits across Sasha and Grizzop’s faces as they look up at the city.

“Zolf,” Sasha says, leaning toward him a bit and whispering. “You sure about this, mate?” 

He gives her a weak smile. “No?” 

Sasha evaluates him for a minute and then shrugs. “Alright.”

She heads down the gangplank, Grizzop at her side as they’re the first off the boat, followed closely by Hamid and Azu. Hamid looks as relieved as Zolf thinks he can, nearly jogging to get off the boat. His shoulders settle down the moment they touch the (granted, unsteady) wood of the dock below, and Zolf can’t help the small smile that flashes along his face. He glances up at the city in the distance and feels a mixed sense of dread and anticipation settle over him as the fog starts to dissipate.

“You coming?” Feryn asks, tilting his head as he glances back at Zolf, and Zolf blows out another steadying breath before following his friends down onto the dock, walking along the pier until they’re starting down the path toward Rome.

They’ll find something in the city, he has a feeling. Zolf just hopes they’ll like it, whatever it could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i don’t have a consistent posting schedule i hope long chapters make up for it /sweats
> 
> comments and kudos’ are super appreciated as always!! love hearing from y’all even if i’m super bad as responding


	8. Chapter 8

Rome is… not what Zolf had expected. It’s a towering city that looks dingy and dark, surrounded on all sides by a tall metal wall that blocks out the sun and the outside world. The people there are friendly enough; they’d gotten through the gates easily, although Sasha had been fidgeting nervously the entire time as the guard looked over their party. The captain - Zolf thinks her name was Erika - had vouched for them as well, said they were nothing more than tourists looking to spend a few days in the city. 

They passed through the gates and spilled out into the streets of Rome. Feryn didn’t look the slightest bit impressed, and Grizzop looked much the same. Sasha, for her part, had looked more comfortable here. Zolf had figured it was closer to Other London; there were no shortage of places for her to hide here. 

They’d found a hotel eventually; nothing special, nothing glamorous, but it had soft beds and spacious rooms, and, well, Zolf wasn’t going to complain. They’d spent a moment collecting themselves in their rooms; Zolf was bunking with Feryn, who wanted to keep a closer eye on him now that they were here, but eventually they had all ended up in the lobby, discussing what to do next.

“Me and Azu are going to do a spot of shopping, if anyone wants to join us,” Hamid announces, glancing around at all of them. Sasha looks tempted for a moment, but seems to clock the fact that she’d be shopping with a paladin and sits back, sulking a bit. Zolf isn’t interested, and Feryn and Grizzop echo the statement. 

It doesn’t seem to damper Hamid’s spirits though; he just winds his arm through Azu’s and sets off. 

“Be careful!” Zolf calls after him. “If you see anyone suspicious, just… come back here, alright?” 

Hamid nods. “I promise!” he calls back, waving at the four of them stood in the doorway to the hotel. Azu gives a nod as well, which makes Zolf feel marginally better. He doesn’t know what to make of the city, of its people. If they’re right - and there’s an ever-increasing knot in his stomach that’s telling him they are - they don’t know who they can trust. How many people are even involved. No one should be going off on their own, not here.

Feryn and Sasha decide to do some exploring, and Grizzop joins them, leaving Zolf alone in the hotel. He’s still tired from the ship, still a bit exhausted from running through all the what-if’s and the possibilities in his head. Investigating the city itself for the cult would have to wait for tomorrow, after all of them were well-rested, so Zolf decides to take a nap, resting through the day. His nights had been lousy on the boat, and killing time with some sleep is as good an idea as any. 

When he wakes, it’s dark outside; he heads out of his room after putting his prosthetic on and finds the rest of their little group sat around an old dining table. There’s a wonderful spread of food on the table, and Zolf’s mouth waters as he looks at it.

“Morning,” Feryn says, with a sly grin, and Zolf shoves him in the shoulder a bit. “Grab a seat. Food’s in with the price of the room.”

“Ah. That’s nice,” he says, and sits down next to Feryn as he starts loading his plate. Hamid’s already got a stack of plates next to him, and must be putting away almost double his body weight in food. Zolf would almost be impressed, if his own stomach wasn’t growling something fierce. 

The food’s delicious; after the hard tack and blandness of the sailor’s food on the ship, Zolf couldn’t be happier to get some food with actual flavor. Dinner passes in a bit of a blur; he’s still waking up, and passes neatly from plate to plate as he enjoys the food. 

After dinner finds them sitting in the lounge, chatting amicably about things of no consequence. No one else seems to be staying at the hotel, which tracks with what the captain said. Rome doesn’t seem to be a popular destination in the slightest. That’s all the better, in Zolf’s mind. Less things to distract them, less variables to consider as they try to figure out what to do. 

“What’s our plan for tomorrow?” Zolf finally asks, and maybe it’s not the best conversation to have in the lounge, but there’s no one else around, and it’s a conversation they need to have. “Where do we look first?”

“I think we should stop by the merchant’s district, see if anyone recognizes any of the rocks,” Sasha suggests. 

Hamid leans forward and nods, excited. “If the rocks are as valuable as Sasha says, someone there should know. There doesn’t seem to be an upmarket district here, so that’s as good of a place as any.”

Grizzop polishes another arrow mindlessly, inspecting it before sticking it back in his quiver. “Well that’s set, then. Investigate the merchants, find the cult.”

“Hopefully,” Zolf says.

“Hopefully,” Grizzop amends, echoing him. “It’s as good an idea as any, I suppose.” 

“On that note - now that we’ve got it straightened out, I’m off to bed,” Feryn announces, and Sasha rises to follow him. “Long day. See you all bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“Night,” Sasha says, silently padding away as Feryn leans in to give Zolf a quick hug.

“Don’t stay up too late, you four,” Feryn warns, and Zolf rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but it’s more fond than anything else, although that quickly turns to a scowl as Feryn flicks him on the forehead.

“Don’t sass. Now. Night, all,” Feryn calls over his shoulder as he turns on his heel and heads up the staircase. 

Azu follows them not too long after, chatting with Hamid about something before giving him a tight hug. She bids them all a lovely goodbye as she clanks up the stairs, still dressed in full plate armor, leaving Hamid, Zolf, and Grizzop sitting in front of a fireplace that looks like it might be on its last legs. 

“So, this magic thing. How’s it work, then?” Grizzop asks, eyeing the both of them a little critically. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, honest, it’s just… a little hard to accept.”

“I’m not doing a demonstration,” Zolf says automatically. Grizzop holds up a hand.

“Not asking for that, mate. Would be shite of me to force either of you into that. I’m just… curious, I suppose.”

“Actually,” Hamid pipes up, giving Zolf an almost shy and curious look. “I’d be interested to hear about it as well? I’ve never met someone like me, and, well. It’s not the  _ same,  _ obviously, but… if you don’t mind?”

Zolf chews on the inside of his cheek as he considers the both of them. One half of him is screaming at him to say nothing, to lay low; it’s a holdover from when he and Feryn were the only ones who knew. He’d never have expected to have this many people know his secret, much less to find someone who almost  _ shares _ it. But he can’t keep everything locked away, still; Hamid shared his own story to all of them back in Cairo, and Zolf owes it to Grizzop, he thinks, for coming along on this hare-brained journey in the first place. 

“When I was younger, my mum said that anyone I touched would be… dunno how to explain it. More… energized? With it? Something like that, anyway, it doesn’t - whatever. Didn’t really think anything of it at the time. It’s, you know, a sort of weird thing to conceptualize? No one’s first thought is gonna be ‘oh, my kid’s got magic powers’ or some such rot,” Zolf explains, tugging nervously at the ends of his gloves. Both Grizzop and Hamid’s eyes are locked on his, listening intently, and he takes a deep, steadying breath. “Long,  _ long _ story short, I found a dead bird. Picked it up - I was a kid, didn’t really know what death was, didn’t know I shouldn’t touch it, and it just… woke up, in my palms. Mum screamed the entire house down, nearly, when it flew off. After that, mum and dad told me not to touch anyone. Bought me these gloves to keep it secret, spread… dunno, some lie about it to the town. Worked, and all. Never had anyone question it.”

“Lucky,” Grizzop comments, and Zolf nods. 

“Don’t I know it. Rumors travel fast in a small town, suppose everyone just ran with it and didn't decide to ask.”

Grizzop makes a small hum. “Sounds like a rough childhood.”

Zolf shrugs. “Had my parents. Had my brother. Could have been worse.”

“True. And you, Hamid?” Grizzop asks. “Already heard your story, back in that alleyway in Cairo, anything to add?”

Hamid shakes his head. “Not really? I never looked too closely at it. It’s… it’s a bit different, you know, when your touch kills someone.” He looks a bit apologetically at Zolf, but Zolf just reaches out and rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Of the cards they’ve both been dealt, Zolf knows he has the better hand. He doesn’t think Hamid blames him for it, doesn’t resent him for it, but he knows that he’s the lucky one in all this.

“Alright, well, this has been illuminating. Didn’t think I’d be brought in on this sort of job, but. Well, it’s been a pleasure so far, and the both of you seem like decent folk,” Grizzop says.

“Er - cheers?” Zolf says.

“I appreciate you both filling me in. But I really need to get some rest in case we need to shoot some kneecaps off tomorrow, so… night, you two,” Grizzop says, standing up and stretching. He gives them both a little wave, which Hamid returns with a wave of his own while Zolf gives him a nod. He disappears up the stairs, leaving Hamid and Zolf alone in the lobby, sitting in a comfortable silence.

“I should be going up too,” Hamid murmurs, wincing when he looks over at the clock in the corner. “It’s getting late.” He stands on unsteady feet, laughing a little. “Guess I’m still used to the ship.”

“That’ll pass soon, promise,” Zolf says, giving him an encouraging smile.

“Good night, Zolf,” Hamid says quietly, and there’s a nervous smile on his face before he leans forward and presses his lips to Zolf’s cheek. It’s nothing more than a gentle brush, but Zolf’s brain still stops working for a moment. Hamid’s lips are soft and warm, and in the stillness Zolf almost lets himself believe that he can have this. 

Hamid pulls away too soon, but Zolf doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the feeling of Hamid’s lips on his skin. “Sleep well,” Hamid says, and his smile is sweet and small, and Zolf stares after him when he turns away, dumbfounded.

“Y-you too,” he says to the empty room. His hand comes up to press against his cheek, where Hamid’s lips had been, and he’s sure he’s blushing furiously. The clock in the corner of the room chimes and he jumps, glaring over at it. He - he doesn’t know how long he was sitting there silently, committing the look on Hamid’s face to memory. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day, though; he should head to bed.

Zolf’s hand is on the bannister up to the first floor when he hears a noise almost like rocks hitting a window. Curious, he turns back around; none of the windows are broken or even cracked. It's strange - he could have sworn he heard something. A cold chill passes across his spine. They could have been followed. It’s happened before.

He should go wake up Feryn or Sasha. The only one in their little group who doesn’t have formal experience with fighting seems to be Hamid, and even he can hold his own. Zolf knows he shouldn’t investigate the noise alone, but it’s late, and he’s tired, and it might not even be anything.

He makes it to the center of the room when he hears the noise again, on the opposite side of the room. 

“Who’s there?” he asks, almost hoping he’s caught Sasha sneaking about in the dark. He wouldn’t even complain about her scaring him this time. Gods, this is so stupid, it’s  _ definitely  _ Sasha messing with him, it  _ has  _ to be, they wouldn’t -

Zolf doesn’t see the hood until it’s already over his head. There’s an arm keeping him in a headlock as he struggles, trying to break their hold. There’s a pinch in his neck and he flinches, possibilities running through his mind. It could be a knife, could be a needle, could be poison or a drug or  _ anything,  _ and it’s too late for him to do anything. 

“Don’t try and fight it,” he hears, a deep voice right next to his ear, and he keeps fighting. “I didn’t want to make this harder, but you asked for it.” 

His world explodes in pain as a fist collides with the side of his head, and Zolf sees stars as he blinks, trying to stay awake. Everything is just so heavy, pulling at his eyes and muscles as he struggles against the lull of sleep. 

“That’s it,” he hears again, and stumbles, falling to his hands and knees as he tries to call out, tries to make any noise, but it’s like his brain has disconnected from his mouth, and he can’t say anything. 

His muscles give out eventually and he collapses, breath rattling as he desperately strains to keep his eyes open. Dark boots pass back and forth in front of his vision, and he feels himself roughly getting picked up as his eyes slip shut and the darkness claims him.

—

It’s been a long few days of travel, and Azu’s exhausted. The ship was small and cramped, and even spending nearly all of her time not sleeping abovedecks, she still felt like she was struggling, trapped. She tried not to show how much it affected her, and Hamid kept giving her encouraging glances amidst his own bout of seasickness. Rome was a breath of fresh air, metaphorically if not literally, a bustling city with winding roads twisting off in every direction, and the hotel that they found had spacious rooms. It’s a welcome change from the ship, and Azu’s looking forward to finally getting a full night’s sleep. She’s even been one of the first ones upstairs, settled and asleep.

So, it’s understandable that she’s a little miffed when she jolts out of bed to the sound of shouting right outside her door. It’s still so early, and she doesn’t feel nearly rested enough, but she can make out a particularly angry Feryn, and an increasingly agitated Grizzop, and maybe Sasha’s quiet voice only just in earshot.

“Where is he?” Feryn is yelling, and then a door slams somewhere down the hallway. “Where the  _ hell _ is he?”

Hamid jolts up in his own bed with a cry of alarm, looking from left to right confusedly. “Azu? What? What’s happening?” 

“I don’t know,” Azu says, slipping out of the bed and wrapping her robe around herself. “Come with me. Feryn sounds distressed.” 

“Okay,” Hamid says, tilting his head as he gets out of bed himself and scampers over to the door, heading out as Azu holds the door open.

Feryn, Grizzop, and Sasha are in the hallway outside, Feryn slamming another door shut as Sasha stands there, face impassive as stone. Azu can see a hint of stress in her eyes as she watches Feryn dart around the hallway, and Azu sidles up to her while Hamid looks on, confused. 

“What’s happening, Sasha?” Azu asks, as Feryn bursts into another (thankfully empty) room. 

“Zolf’s missing,” Sasha says, curt, and at her side, Grizzop is scowling, knuckles white where he grips his bow. 

It takes Feryn a moment to notice them, but he stops dead as he sees Hamid standing there in his dressing gown. His hand comes up, shaking, as he points an accusatory finger at him, and Azu feels her heart skip a beat.

“You did this,” Feryn growls, and Azu instinctively steps in front of Hamid, hands out in front of her. She doesn’t want to hurt Feryn, and won’t unless she absolutely has to, but the dwarf looks seconds away from lunging and she refuses to let Hamid be caught in the crossfire. 

“I - you think I was involved?” Hamid says, and he almost sounds heartbroken as he takes a step back. “I - I wouldn’t, I -“

“Don’t  _ lie,”  _ Feryn says, taking another step forward to shorten the distance. 

“Mate, it wasn’t him,” Sasha says, holding Feryn back with a hand on his shoulder. “He can’t lie for shite, and I’d know if he were. Alright?”

Feryn doesn’t say anything, just staring daggers at Hamid. Grizzop is glancing between the two of them as though he’s not sure which side to take. 

“What  _ happened?”  _ Azu asks, voice booming even as it remains calm, and Feryn finally seems to hear her, eyes losing some of the fire as he steps back from Hamid and leans against the wall, head in his hands.

“I heard a crash from downstairs,” he says, quiet. “Didn’t think it was anything. Went back to sleep, woke up to get a drink of water, noticed Zolf wasn’t in his bed… I looked around the entire hotel, and  _ nothing. _ He’s gone.”

Azu holds a hand over her mouth, shocked. “Is - is it possible that he left on his own?” she suggests, but Feryn just shakes his head dully. 

“I know my brother. He wouldn’t.”

“We’ll find him, mate, okay?” Sasha says, and she looks just as upset, even though she’s controlling it better. 

“I - I can't lose him, Sasha,” Feryn mutters, and Azu feels her own heart shatter at the pain in his voice. “I can’t.”

“You won’t, okay?” Sasha says, determined. Azu takes a step forward as well, and nods.

“We  _ will _ find him,” Azu says, and Grizzop mutters a conformation. Hamid agrees as well, and Feryn looks over at him. 

“Sorry,” he says, quiet. “I - I know you wouldn’t. Wasn’t thinking straight.”

“It’s alright,” Hamid says. “I - I was the last to go to bed, and…” he trails off as a blush starts high in his cheeks. Azu glances at him quizzically, but Hamid doesn’t acknowledge her. “I shouldn’t have left him alone.”

“You just would have been taken too,” Azu argues, but Hamid shakes his head.

“We - we could have fought  _ back,  _ maybe, we could have - I don’t know.  _ Something. _ ”

Feryn pushes off of the wall and folds his arms. “We can’t think about the what-if’s. It’ll just slow us down. We all should have been more careful, shouldn’t have assumed we’d gotten here scot-free.”

“Right, now that we’re all done having emotions all over the place,” Grizzop says, hopping up on a chair as he surveys all of them. “Anyone got any ideas?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is isn’t related but *points at grizzop* this goblin is aroace and we stan
> 
> i’m so sorry i’m trying to get this out but. feels like pulling teeth to write these days. still. we out here!! we doing it!!
> 
> anyways looking like this is gonna be abouuuuuuut 11 chapters? ish? probably? anyway i hope y’all enjoyed, and feel free to hmu at connerkcnt on tumblr and chat abt rqg!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO I AM BACK WOW FEMSLASH WEEK WENT SO WELL IM V EMOTIONAL  
ABOUT IT here have this i’m love this fic a lot again so hopefully i’ll get more updates out but no promises my inspiration is a flighty bitch

Everything is dark when Zolf comes to. Everything also  _ hurts _ , but he doesn’t think there’s going to be anything he can do about that. He shifts a bit on the ground and groans, head spinning as he curls up tighter on himself. He - he remembers sitting in the inn, talking with Hamid, Hamid… his cheeks burn as he remembers Hamid pressing his lips to Zolf’s cheek, so gently, so  _ swiftly _ . But then everything after that… it’s dark. 

He sits up. His hands are bound behind his back and he grumbles, pulling at the chains a bit. His head is still swimming, and he realizes that whatever knocked him out must still be kicking around in his system. There’s no one else he can see in the cell with him, just a few more unused chains, and he tries to struggle to his feet, but eventually gives up, sitting there in the cell, more than a little frustrated.

“Er, hello?” Zolf calls, looking out through the bars in front of him. The words come out jumbled and slurred thanks to the drugs, but he can’t find it in himself to care. There’s a long corridor with lanterns dimly illuminating small sections of it, and he can’t see as well as he’d like to. “Anyone out there? Would love to be let out, please.” 

There’s a shuffling sound coming from right outside his cell, and then a cultist comes into view, head covered - as always - with a black hood. Zolf can’t help if - he groans.

“Really? Again?” he asks, tilting his head back as he looks up at the top of the cell. “You lot just don’t give up, do you?”

It’s more of a rhetorical question than anything else, but the cultist still laughs. “We won’t give up until we have your… other half, as it were. The two of you are more powerful than any other creatures, and only with -“

Zolf coughs, delicately, and smacks his lips. “Yeah, yeah, I  _ know _ , I’ve heard the spiel. Do you have any water?” 

The cultist just stares at him for a moment, and then his hand comes down, slapping against the bars of the gate. “You want  _ water?”  _ he asks, incredulous, and Zolf looks left and right in confusion before turning back to the cultist.

“Er - that’s what I said, innit? Throat’s a bit parched.”

The cultist doesn’t say anything, mouth working, and then snarls. “No, you don’t get to have  _ water.” _

“Well, then. I’ll be leaving a terrible review,” Zolf says drily, and the cultist leans closer to the bars. 

“You’re being very  _ snarky  _ for someone who can’t even move,” they say, a clear undercurrent of anger in their voice. “But your tone will be changing soon enough.”

“Hmm? Why’s that?” Zolf asks, and they smile, triumphant.

“We will ri -“ the cultist cuts himself off, staring suspiciously at Zolf. “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“I mean, gonna die anyway,” Zolf says, having to put a conscious effort into not slurring the words. He’s only marginally successful. “Why not tell me your evil plan?” 

They don’t say anything for a moment, squinting at him, and then seem to relent. “I suppose it won’t hurt. We’ll be killing you anyway, when the time is right.

“We know he’ll come to rescue you, of course. Your other half, the one who also holds power over life and death. He’ll come, and then we’ll be able to convince him of… the  _ righteousness  _ of our cause, and he will join us.”

Zolf doesn’t speak for a moment, and then he blinks, shaking his head. “Gods,” he says. “We’ve known each other for a grand total of about three days, and you’re acting like we’re attached at the  _ hip.  _ We’re barely acquaintances, even if we’ve got this same - same  _ stupid _ curse affecting us.”

It feels like a lie. Zolf knows it’s a lie. Sure, they’ve only known each for a few days, but there’s… there's  _ something  _ there, something in the way Hamid looks at Zolf, something in Zolf’s chest that acts up every time he’s close to Hamid, the way he feels an almost gravitational pull toward him.

“He’ll come,” they whisper again, and the surety in their voice puts Zolf on edge. “And then, when we kill him in front of you, he’ll realize his true potential and join us on the right side, the  _ winning side _ .”

“Er… that’s a bit edgy, don’t you think?” Zolf asks, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, really, there are just… a  _ number  _ of practical issues with that. Like, do you really think he’ll all of a sudden switch sides just because, what, he listened to your  _ pitch? _ It just -“

“Shut up!” they yell, banging their hands against the bars again. “You - you don’t  _ understand _ , it’s been  _ written _ .”

“Written?” Zolf asks. It’s not the first time someone’s mentioned this, but it’s the first time Zolf’s really been able to latch onto it. “What do you mean, written?”

“Our leader found the information at an old, abandoned library with knowledge spanning the ages. It tells the tale of two, born with power in their hands, one of whom will rise above and lead his loyal followers to -“

“Wait, what library?” Zolf asks, curious now, and the cultist just scoffs. 

“There’s only one library that sits as the central power across the world, with books spanning centuries into the past, across cultures and distance. It’s the seat of  _ everything _ , where all the different markers of fate are protected. But we know the secrets now, and we will -“

“Does this place have a  _ name? _ ” Zolf asks, cutting them off again, and he swears he can see steam rising from their ears even through the mask. 

“It’s name doesn’t matter, what matters is the truth of the  _ prophecy  _ and how our leader will protect us all when the saviour rains destruction down. He - our leader is the  _ greatest  _ mind in the world, he -“

Zolf laughs, low. “Then why’d it take you all so long to figure out who it was? I mean, honestly. Seems like a bit of a disaster job done to me.”

“You  _ insolent  _ little -“ The cultist spits on the floor in front of him and Zolf recoils, disgusted. Still, he’s pleased that he’s gotten to them  _ this much _ , and as they stop away, he debates yelling some more provocation after them, but lets it go for the time being. They disappear down the hallway and everything goes silent again; Zolf sits there in the cell, wondering if his friends have realized he’s gone yet. If they’re looking for him. If they even have a  _ single  _ idea of where he is. 

Maybe they’re on their way now. 

_ Gods _ , he hopes Hamid doesn’t come. He knows there’s no way Feryn and Sasha leave him here, but he hopes Hamid has enough sense to stay behind. The thought makes him chuckle as he remembers how Hamid acted in the ambush - Hamid’s smart, yeah, but street sense? Not his strong suit. 

Zolf hopes Feryn or Sasha or, hell, even  _ Azu _ can get him to stay back. He doesn’t have a lot of hope for it, regardless; he hasn’t known Hamid for long, but he’s pretty sure that he isn’t going to just sit back and wait for the rest of them to get back. Zolf sighs. There’s nothing he can do about it except sit and wait here; maybe he’ll get an opening that he can use, but until the drug runs its course, he’s a bit limited with his options. 

Shite.  _ Shite. _

Time passes without him really being able to track it. Whatever drug these arseholes used, it’s  _ slow,  _ and it’s taking longer to run through Zolf’s system than he’d like. His head is less fuzzy, and he still feels sharp, but his body feels like it weighs an entire ton, and he can barely keep himself sitting there. 

Still, he does, even if he has to sit back against the door to the cell to keep himself from toppling over. 

There’s a steady  _ drip, drip _ of water onto a nearby tile, and Zolf doesn’t know how long he listens to it when a voice suddenly comes out of nowhere. 

“Zolf!” he hears, a whisper in the dark, and he turns his head sluggishly. Hamid’s standing at the end of the hallway, hands over his mouth, and Zolf can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. The drug must still be working its way through his system, because in the space of a blink Hamid disappears and reappears directly in front of him, cell open, and drops to his knees in front of Zolf as he pulls him in close, arms around his neck. “ _ Zolf _ , gods, I thought - thought they’d -“

He cuts himself off with something that sounds suspiciously like a sob, and his arms tighten like a vice as he clings onto Zolf for everything he’s worth. 

“Hey, Hamid,” he murmurs, tucking his head against the side of Hamid’s neck. His arms are still shackled behind his back, so he can’t hug Hamid, but he presses as close to him as he can. “How - how’d you get here?” 

“Broke in,” Hamid says, short, and then pulls a ring of keys out from his pocket. “Don’t move.”

Zolf obeys as much as he’s able, listing a little to the side as Hamid crawls behind him. He makes quick work of the shackles, and they fall to the ground with a quiet clang. Zolf can finally use his arms again, and stretches them a bit, rolling his shoulders and trying to get them to feel less stiff. 

Hamid crawls back around him and Zolf pulls him into a tight hug this time, and can  _ feel  _ the tension bleeding out of his shoulders. 

“Gods, I’m so glad you’re alright,” he says, and Hamid’s arms come lightly around his waist.

“Me? Zolf,  _ you’re _ the one who got kidnapped!” Hamid says, looking at him incredulously. “We were - gods, Feryn was going  _ mental  _ when we couldn’t find you, we thought -“

“Where is he?” Zolf asks, cutting him off and looking past Hamid at the hallway, as though his brother will magically appear. “Sasha? Azu? Grizzop?”

Hamid finally pulls back just enough so he can look at Zolf, arms still tightly locked around his neck. “They’re clearing the way,” he says, with a bit of a dark smile on his face. “Can you stand?” 

Zolf… genuinely doesn’t know, actually. “I can, er - try?”

Hamid stands up first, holding onto Zolf’s hands as he settles himself onto his knees. He stands up with Hamid’s assistance, and his legs are weak from the drug and from being sat there for… Zolf isn’t sure how long, but a while. His prosthetic is stiff, but he isn’t going to have a chance to deal with that until they get out of here. 

“I can walk,” Zolf says, and takes a step forward, only to stumble off to the side and catch himself on the side of the jail cell. “Mostly.”

“Here,” Hamid says, and wraps Zolf’s arm around his shoulders. It’s more than a bit awkward, with the height difference, but it’s the best they’re going to get for now. And they  _ really  _ need to get out of here. “I know it - Sasha or Feryn would be better for this, but I can help you. We’ll just be slow, yeah?”

Zolf nods, and slowly,  _ painstakingly  _ slowly, they start to move forward. 

“Listen,” Zolf says. “This is a trap. They wanted you to - er, well. We don’t need to get into the details, but they still think you’ll magically change to being on their side. So. Maybe keep an eye out.”

Hamid sighs. “I wondered if it might be,” he admits, and adjusts Zolf’s arm slightly. “But I wasn’t going to leave you here. None of us were. Azu tried getting me to stay back, but I refused to listen. So, we decided that the rest of them would distract the guards while I came looking for you.” 

Zolf nods. “I’m glad you did,” he murmurs, maybe a bit too softly than he means, but Hamid just smiles to himself, and then they continue walking. 

“They talked about a library,” Zolf recalls, and Hamid gives him a quick look. “They said that there were answers there.”

“What library? Did they say?” Hamid asks, brow furrowing, but Zolf shakes his head.

“Not by name. They just said it was the seat of all knowledge - do you know what it could be?” he asks, and Hamid hums, considering.

“The Library of Alexandria, most likely,” he muses. “It’s the largest library in the world, with information from a number of different cultures. If there’s answers anywhere, it would be there.” 

“That must be it, then,” Zolf says. “Well, we know our next stop.”

“I suppose we do,” Hamid replies. “We just need to get out of here first.”

They both fall silent then, breathing heavily as they continue struggling to walk. Luckily, it doesn’t take too long before Zolf is able to support himself, and they pick up the pace, nearly running through the labyrinthine basement. They can’t move at that pace forever - Zolf doesn’t know how long he’s going to be able to keep this up, especially with how much his leg is starting to cramp. It’s hell - there’s no way to determine where they’re actually going, or track where they’ve been, and Zolf swears he’s seen that section of wall before. He curses, frustrated, and at his side, Hamid sighs in annoyance. 

“How the hell did you even find me?” Zolf asks, turning slowly in a circle at the three different paths leading off from the corridor they’re in. 

“Luck?” Hamid suggests, and picks a corridor at seemingly random. “We can’t get more lost than we already are, and maybe if we get to the edge of the basement we can find a way out.”

Zolf shrugs; it’s as good an idea as any, honestly, and he hasn’t got anything else to help with. They just have to keep walking, have to figure out a way to get out of here as soon as they can. 

They’re barely halfway down the new path when two cultists step out of a corridor turning off in front of them. Zolf hears them swear as they get into position, hands up. Zolf  _ wishes  _ he had any sort of weapon, but hey, he’s not too shabby in hand-to-hand either. He pushes Hamid behind him and takes a ready stance. 

“Oh, you won’t be getting out that easy,” one of them snarls, and Zolf tenses, trying to figure out the best way to distract them so that Hamid can get by and escape. Honestly, they might not even try to attack him, not if they believe he’s the saviour that they’ve been waiting for. Zolf can use that, can twist it into an advantage, can make sure Hamid gets away safely. 

They spread out as much as they can in the hallway, and Zolf tracks them both. “Hamid,” he says under his breath, eyes not leaving either of them. “When I say go, you go. Okay?”

“Zolf, wait, I -“

Zolf doesn’t wait for him to finish, charging at one of the cultists and managing to get in a punch before they can defend themselves. They swear, loudly, and then Zolf is ducking as another punch from the second cultist passes through the space where his head once was. He spins around, but they’re too quick and they dodge, leaving him wide open and off balance as he tries to attack. 

Zolf takes the punch that comes a second later and connects with his cheek. It hurts like a motherfucker but he doesn’t hesitate, shoving them against the wall as well, driving blow after blow into their midsection. 

“Go!” he yells, but Hamid doesn’t move, backing up until his back presses against the wall, head on a swivel like he’s looking for something. “Hamid,  _ go!” _

He still doesn’t listen, and Zolf growls, frustrated, but has to keep his focus on the two cultists. He dodges out of the way of one of them but the second one grabs him, capturing his arms. Zolf breaks out, slipping away, and goes for a haymaker, missing again. He gets a hard slap for his trouble, and then a blow to his spine as he stumbles away. 

He spits blood out of his mouth as he keeps leading them away from Hamid, but it doesn’t last. Two against one was never going to end well, and he ends up with one cultist wrapping their arm around his neck as the other holds his arms. Zolf’s not back to full strength yet, either, and is unable to break their grip even as he struggles. The one’s arm gets tighter around his neck, and Zolf looks over at Hamid, standing there and looking desperately for something he can do. There’s determination and anger on his face, and Zolf knows, somehow, that he’s going to try to save him instead of escaping while he has the chance.

“Hamid,  _ go,”  _ he begs through choked breaths, but Hamid just closes his eyes and looks down. “ _ Please. _ “

“ _ No _ ,” Hamid nearly growls, and when he looks up, his eyes are molten gold. The cultists pause, just for a moment, but it’s enough for Zolf to break their grip and drop to the floor. It’s a good thing he did - Hamid’s hands come together as a stream of flame shoots from him, catching the two cultists on fire. They both scream and drop to the ground, and then lay there motionless even after the fire’s out. Zolf carefully moves forward and, when they don’t move, steps around their bodies as Hamid follows, staring down at them with his lips pressed into a tight line. Zolf reaches back and grabs Hamid’s shoulder, gently turning him away from the bodies. 

“Hey. Don’t - don’t focus on them. Focus on me, alright?” he says, and Hamid closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, shaky and shuddering. His eyes flutter open not a moment later, and Zolf gives him an encouraging smile. “Alright?”

“Alright,” Hamid mumbles, and Zolf can see the edges of panic there, and just hopes Hamid can hold it together until they get out. 

He changes the subject, trying to distract him. 

“That was - that was handy. I didn’t know you could do magic,” Zolf says, giving Hamid an incredulous look. Hamid shakes his head.

“I can do small things, mostly, simple cleaning spells and cantrips, but nothing… nothing like  _ that.  _ I’m definitely not supposed to be able to cast  _ that _ spell?” he says, eyes wide with worry and confusion. “I don’t know how -“

“Think about it later, we need to  _ go,” _ Zolf says, grabbing Hamid’s hand and pulling him along behind himself. Hamid stumbles after him, still seeming to be a little in shock as they hurry along the corridor. He makes a note in the back of his head to talk to Hamid about it later, once they’re out of here and the adrenaline has lessened. But for now, they just need to keep moving. Hamid’s fingers lace with Zolf’s in his grip, a secure hold, and Zolf  _ doesn’t  _ think about it, because if he does he’ll blush, and they really don’t have time to examine this on top of escaping. Later. 

Thankfully, they finally find a set of stairs and Zolf pulls Hamid up it, bodily shouldering his way through the wood as it swings open. They step out into a brightly lit room, afternoon sunshine streaming in through the windows, and Zolf drops Hamid’s hand. 

“Feryn!” Zolf yells, cupping his hands around his mouth, and he sees his brother stumble into sight, bleeding from a gash on his head. That looks like his only injury, thank the  _ gods _ . Sasha and Grizzop appear behind him; Grizzop’s got a long cut on his leg, and Sasha’s clutching her own arm tight to her chest. Azu’s nowhere to be found, and Hamid seems to clock that at the same time he does, hand tightening instinctively on Zolf’s as his face falls.

“Gods, Zolf, you look terrible,” Feryn says, still pulling him into a tight hug. Zolf gives back as good as he can, weak from his time in the cell. 

“You too, mate,” he says, feeling a little choked up. “You too. 

“Where’s Azu?” Hamid asks, and Feryn gestures behind him. 

“She’s keeping an eye on our way out and stopping anyone else from coming in. We’re meant to be meeting up with her when we’ve grabbed you two,” he explains, and Hamid lets out a sigh of relief. “Speaking of. We should go. Now.”

“Good idea,” Zolf says, and then goes over to Sasha. “You alright?”

“Bastards got a spell off,” Grizzop answers for her, and Sasha nods, clearly gritting her teeth through the pain. “Too late for me to help.”

“Let’s just go,” she says, barely moving her mouth, and Zolf gives her a sympathetic look.

There’s another crash and the sound of yelling from behind them, and Zolf whips around, ready to fight again. Grizzop is quicker than he is, loosing two arrows into the corridor as fast as a strike of lightning. There’s a single cry of pain as they hit home, and then a thud. 

“Okay, everyone out,” Grizzop orders, pulling another arrow from his quiver. He brings up the rear as everyone heads toward the door, glancing from left to right just in case of any more trouble. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like any other cultists are in a hurry to catch up with them, or in the proper state to, and they make it out into the sunlight. 

Zolf closes his eyes the moment they step out and tilts his face up toward the sun, taking a deep breath of fresh air for what feels like the first time in forever.

He’s finally out. 

—

They meet up with Azu around the side of the strange fortress that Zolf had been kept in. There are a number of cultists unconscious around her, and she’s glowing more pink than normal, axe slung over her shoulder. “Hamid!” she exclaims the moment she sees them, and drops the axe, running over and grabbing him up in a tight hug. “I was so worried!”

Hamid hugs back, arms wrapped tightly around her neck. “I’m fine, Azu, I promise. And, look - we got Zolf out as well, safe and sound.”

Azu nods toward Zolf, who gives her a little bit of a wave. “I’m pleased to see you’re alright,” she says, and Zolf shrugs.

“Been better, been worse,” he says, and massages his neck. Hamid bites his lip, and then gives Zolf an encouraging smile, which Zolf doesn’t return, exactly, but his gaze gets softer, so Hamid counts it as a win. 

“We need to go,” Sasha interrupts, looking furtively around them. She still has two daggers in her hand, but Hamid knows that she has at least ten more stored somewhere on her person, just out of sight. By her side, Grizzop is still holding onto his bow, arrow loosely nocked. Both of them look suspicious and uncomfortable, so Hamid taps on Azu’s shoulder to let him down. She does, carefully.

“We just need to get back to the main road and then we can grab a carriage,” Feryn explains. “And we should move quickly. Now. I don’t want another ambush situation. I think we’ve incapacitated enough of them that they won’t be able to strike now, but who knows if they’ve got any healers or potions on their side.”

Azu nods, and then they all set off, keeping a slower pace with Zolf as he struggles toward the main road. Hamid can see the flash of pain across his face every time he takes a step with his prosthetic. Feryn seems to notice as well, mouth pulled down into an unhappy line, and offers to help once, which Zolf doesn’t take, and doesn’t offer again. 

The main road isn’t too far from the complex, and they’re lucky enough to see a driver already waiting there for his next passengers to come along. Thankfully, he doesn’t ask any questions about their appearance, just gestures for them to get in. Hamid knows he isn't too bad off, but Zolf’s got some dried blood on his face, Azu’s carrying a massive axe that  _ clearly  _ has been getting use, and the other three are covered in dust, grime, and soot that probably came from more than a few explosions. 

Actually, maybe that’s  _ why  _ they don’t get any questions. Hamid clambers into the backseat anyway while Feryn haggles with the driver. Zolf climbs in after him and takes the seat opposite, leaning against the far door and closing his eyes. Feryn hops in not too long after, looking satisfied, and Azu is the last one to join, looking less than pleased about being in such a tight space. Sasha and Grizzop decide to perch with the driver on top, just to keep a better eye out, and then they set off down the road at a brisk pace.

Sasha keeps popping her head back into the carriage to update them on how much longer they have until they get back to the inn, which Hamid can tell Azu appreciates. At one point, they all get into a heated discussion about choosing a new inn to go to, until Sasha shuts the window on all of them and makes the decision herself. 

So, yeah. Everyone is more than a little on edge. Hamid’s got one of Azu’s hands tightly gripped between both of his as she closes her eyes; she’s never liked enclosed spaces, and Hamid hopes for her sake more than anything else that the ride will be over soon. Across from the two of them, Zolf is sleeping, nestled between the door and Feryn. He’s snoring a bit, nearly too quiet for Hamid to make out, and Hamid can’t help the fond smile that spreads across his face for an instant before he hides it again. 

“Do you know what they wanted?” Feryn asks him, and Hamid looks away from Zolf. “Why they took him, I mean.”

Hamid shakes his head. “No, we - there were only two cultists that we ran into and I, um. Maybe cast a spell on them? I’m not… really sure how. But there was definitely fire.”

Azu squeezes his hand. a show of solidarity and support. “I didn’t know you could do magic,” she says, sounding impressed, and Hamid gives a wry chuckle. 

“I didn’t either - nothing that big, at least,”

Hamid confesses.

“We’ll sort it,” Azu promises, and he slumps a little bit farther into her. 

“Thanks, Azu,” he says, and she rests her head against his, smiling. 

“We should have interrogated the ones we found. Damn. Did they say anything else?” Feryn asks, clearly frustrated, although none of it is directed at Hamid. 

“Not to me. But… Zolf said they kept talking about something being at the Library of Alexandria,” Hamid explains, casting another careful look over at Zolf as he naps. “He didn’t get to tell me much about it.”

Feryn nods. “I’ll ask him later, then. But it seems like that’s going to be our next step.” 

Hamid and Azu nod in agreement. “How far away is it?” she asks, and Feryn scrunches up his face as he thinks. 

“Maybe a day by airship? Zolf’s going to hate that, though. But it’ll be the quickest we can get there,” he says. 

“That sounds like the best option, then,” Azu says. “I’ve never traveled by airship before.” She sounds excited, and Hamid pats her on the arm. 

“It’s lovely!” he says. “Being able to see so much of the world from up there… even at night, the stars are brighter than anything I’ve ever seen. When me and my family would travel, I would convince my siblings to lay out on the top deck with me at night and make up stories for all the constellations.”

“That does seem incredible,” Azu says, sounding excited. “You can really see everything?”

Hamid nods. “Nearly. The wind is cold, that high up, but as long as you have enough coats to keep you warm, you’ll be fine. It’s my favorite way to travel.”

“Amazing,” Azu breathes, and her hand tightens briefly around Hamid’s, an unconscious motion.

Feryn nods in agreement. “It really is something. Hopefully you don’t get airsick like this one here,” he says, pointing a thumb over at Zolf.

Hamid and Azu both give him a sympathetic smile, and then lapse into silence. The rest of the carriage ride passes as the three of them settle down, exhausted. Hamid feels almost lulled by Zolf’s quiet snores; none of them had slept well last night, not before Feryn realized Zolf was missing, and then it had been a harebrained panic as they tried desperately to figure out where to go next, how to find Zolf. 

It’s thankfully not long to whatever new hotel Sasha’s found for them. Hamid’s impressed that she was able to find one this last minute, especially considering that she’s never been here before, but Feryn doesn’t seem the least bit surprised, so he just chalks this ability up to the mystery that is Sasha. 

The carriage comes to a gentle stop outside the hotel, and Azu is the first one out, taking a deep, grateful breath of fresh air.

“Hey, wake up, mate,” Feryn says, nudging Zolf with his shoulder. “We’re back.” Zolf blearily blinks awake, mumbling something Hamid can’t make out. “Yeah, everyone’s fine, and you need to go back to sleep until you’re feeling better.” 

Zolf nods, eyes slipping shut again, but Feryn pokes him in the side. “Oi, not  _ now _ , you lump. Get inside.”

Zolf doesn’t argue, still clearly half-asleep, but Feryn helps him out of the carriage and sends him walking up to the house with Grizzop and Sasha. Zolf doesn’t even really protest, which Hamid would normally take as a worrying sign if not for the whole  _ kidnapping  _ thing. He goes to follow him, thinking about what they should all have for dinner, when Feryn calls him back. 

“Oi, Hamid,” Feryn says, leaning back against the carriage. “A word?” 

Hamid halts in his tracks and looks back. Azu stops as well, giving him a questioning look. He waves for her to keep going, and she hesitates for a moment before acquiescing.

“Yes?” he asks, but Feryn watches Azu’s retreating back and waits until they’re completely alone. Hamid can feel the nervous energy starting to run through his veins as Feryn sizes him up, and his fingers start to tap nervously against his side. 

Feryn takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry for… well, accusing you of hurting Zolf. I was exhausted, and he’d just gone missing, and you’d been the last person to see him. But it wasn’t fair, and I apologize.”

“Oh. Oh! It’s - really, it’s nothing, I - I completely understand,” Hamid says, wrapping his arms around his midsection. 

“It wasn’t fair of me,” Feryn continues. “I’m - Zolf’s really all I have left, him and Sasha, so… I don’t want to lose him.” 

“It’s alright,” Hamid says. “But thank you, I - I do appreciate it.”

Feryn nods, and Hamid starts to walk away, assuming that’s all he wanted to discuss. He takes a step, but Feryn reaches out and lays a hand on Hamid’s shoulder. 

“One more thing,” he says, “if you don’t mind?”

“Oh, er - alright?” Hamid says, glancing over at where Azu and the rest have disappeared inside the building. The sun is just beginning to set in the distance, and their shadows are stretching long over the ground below.

“Don’t break his heart,” Feryn says, and Hamid’s brain stops working for a moment, mouth opening and closing as he tries to think of what to say in response. 

“I’m - sorry, I’m not quite sure I catch your meaning?” Hamid asks. 

“Listen. I don’t want to assume anything about you, but I do know my brother. He…doesn’t act like it, but he gets attached. Quickly,” Feryn says. “I’m not - I - it’s not like that, really,” Hamid rushes to assure him, because - well, it’s not, is it? Sure, he’s - he’s got a bit of a crush, but there’s. There’s no reason for him to think that it’s even reciprocated, or that Zolf would be interested in him, or that Zolf would even still  _ want  _ to be with - speak to -  _ gods, getting ahead of yourself there, Hamid _ , even  _ interact -  _ with him after this entire mess is sorted. “We - well, we haven’t known each other for that long, even, I don’t he would… I don’t think that’s what this is.”

“You sure about that?” Feryn asks, and Hamid opens his mouth to agree, when he thinks about Zolf, blushing to high heaven after Hamid pressed a kiss to his cheek last night. About Zolf falling into him in the cell, wrapping him in a tight hug as Hamid leaned in. 

Maybe - maybe Feryn has a point. A  _ small _ one, albeit, but a point. Still, Hamid doesn’t… it could just be something Zolf does with everyone, it doesn’t have to mean Hamid’s  _ special,  _ and he shouldn’t get his hopes up about it. 

But it’s… nice to think about. Nice to imagine, even if it’s not real. Maybe it is. Maybe it’s not. Maybe… maybe it’s unknown. Maybe, this is something they can choose.

“I - I don’t think -“ Hamid starts, unsure how to finish the sentence. 

“Well, I  _ do  _ think, so I’m telling you now. Just… be careful. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“I - that would never be my intention,” Hamid says, and Feryn lets a satisfied smile spread across his face. 

“Good!” he says, as jovial as ever, and Hamid gives him a weak smile in return. “We’re on the same page, then.” He claps Hamid on the shoulder, and leaves him standing next to the carriage as he heads off toward the house. “Oh, by the way, I told the driver you’d pay. Cheers!”

Hamid stares after him, but then the driver leans down from his perch, clearing his throat expectedly. Hamid whips around, and fumbles through his pockets until he’s got an appropriate amount, handing it over to him.

“Thank you,” he says, sincere, and the driver gives him a salute before whistling, and the horse starts forward, wheels clacking along the cobblestone rode as it rides off into the distance. 

He watches it until it disappears, and then slowly turns to head back toward the inn. He’s got… a lot to think about, but he can’t help the small pocket of warmth that spreads in his chest as he thinks about Feryn insisting that Zolf cares for him. 

_ Him _ . 

Gods, Hamid needs a drink. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu @ ohallows on tumblr!! prompts are always open


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i’m back! y’all can have little a grizzop pov, as a treat. sorry grizzop i wish i had a better handle on ur voice so that i could actually write fics abt u, u deserve better
> 
> me banging my head against the wall: why are all of you so interminably awkward
> 
> oh also i hc both grizzop and feryn as aroace so while all these fools are dancing around each other they’re just like. “can we Pls get on with it”

Grizzop’s leg is shaking.

This isn’t an odd occurrence, really. He’s always been more amped up than anyone around him, and his leg shaking was always less distracting to others than the other ways he would try to get rid of the anxious energy. He used to play with his bowstring, but it would mess with the tension of the bow and the constant  _ twang _ noise would usually end up with one of the other Artemisian students slapping him on the shoulder. It didn’t take long for him to learn how to keep it under wraps; although, there are some days where he really doesn’t give a damn what anyone else thinks or cares about and dares them to tell him to stop. 

This, somehow, isn’t one of those days. Maybe it’s because he’s just met the majority of the people they’re traveling with, maybe it’s because the adrenaline is slowly wearing down to a more manageable level… whatever it is, the leg shaking is enough to keep him grounded for now. 

Here’s the thing: Grizzop doesn’t  _ like _ this. Doesn’t like not knowing what’s coming next, doesn’t like constantly having to be on edge and waiting for the next attack. Doesn’t like the  _ cultists _ , who don’t seem to care about anything apart from messing with the natural order of things.

It doesn’t help that he’s  _ still  _ worried about Vesseek. This is the longest they’ve ever been on a mission, and Wilde won’t  _ fucking  _ tell him anything, and now he’s not even home to get news in case Vesseek does get back or get in touch. He’d left forwarding info with Wilde, and he knows the man knows where to find someone who can cast Sending. Every day he goes without getting news, he gets more anxious - he’s already ready to vibrate out of his skin on the best of days, and there’s a lot going on currently, so Grizzop has been a lot more keyed up. 

He just wants them to get in touch, just to take one more worry off his mind. 

Not like there’s any shortage of those, these days. Gotta say, he didn’t think that Sasha’s proposal was going to come with this much risking of life and limb, but he supposed that, well, it’s  _ Sasha _ , so maybe he should have expected it.

The magic hand thing though - Grizzop thinks it’s fair for him be a little thrown by that particular facet of the mission, and although he’s mostly over it by now, it definitely was a lot to take in at first.

Still. He trusts Sasha, and is slowly starting to trust the rest of them, and ( _ most importantly, _ his brain supplies) it’s what Vesseek would have done. So, here he is, with no plans to leave anytime soon. 

While Feryn heads off to order some room service for the rest of them and Zolf sleeps off the whole kidnapping ordeal, he sends up a quick prayer to Artemis. It’s been a while since he’s visited the church, been even longer since he’s been able to visit Eva (although that was less his decision than it was just circumstances), been what feels like an eternity since he was really able to dedicate his time and energy to her, but he hopes that she’s still out there listening. 

He has a feeling they’re going to need all the help that they can get. 

—

Sasha inhales sharply through her teeth and Azu stops what she’s doing immediately, dropping the bandage to the floor. 

“Are you alright?” she asks, mentally kicking herself after, because Sasha’s got a nasty wound on her arm and of  _ course  _ she’s not okay, Azu,  _ honestly _ . “My apologies, I -“

“S’alright,” Sasha mumbles, knuckles white where she grips the bathtub. “Gonna hurt no matter what. Not your fault.” 

Azu chews on the inside of her cheek, but Sasha seems determined, so she carefully reaches out and takes Sasha’s arm again, as delicate as she knows how to be. “Tell me if it hurts again?” she requests, and Sasha lets out a huff of breath.

“I’m not gonna  _ break,”  _ she mutters, averting her eyes as she glares off in the direction of the door. Azu bites her lip. She’s misstepped again, somehow, despite how hard she’s trying not to.

“I’m sorry,” she says, downcast, and hears Sasha sigh. “I don’t enjoy hurting people I care for.”

Sasha is silent for a moment, and then looks back at her. “I didn’t mean to snap, I know you’re not… not  _ trying  _ to hurt me, and you’re being well thoughtful about it, just… it’s been a long day. Sorry.”

“...It’s alright,” Azu says, and offers a tentative smile. Sasha doesn’t return it, not quite, but Azu can see the quick twitch of her lips as they pull up into a smile for half a second, and is satisfied. She picks the bandages back up again and starts working slowly, binding Sasha’s arm in the quiet of the bathroom. 

When they’d arrived at the hotel, Azu’d reluctantly left Hamid behind to speak with Feryn as she followed the rest. She hadn’t wanted to - the memory of Feryn advancing on Hamid, anger and intent in his eyes, isn’t too distant yet, and Azu is still wary, even knowing that he didn’t really mean it. But Hamid had asked, and she trusted Hamid more than nearly anyone she knew, so she’d honored his request. Still, she hadn’t  _ enjoyed  _ leaving him alone, and was more than happy to see him and Feryn follow the four of them not too long after. Feryn had looked… satisfied, honestly, and Hamid had seemed to be… a little off-kilter, in an almost confused and hopeful way. She’d decided to talk to him later, and then they’d headed up the stairs to their room. 

While Zolf collapsed on the bed and nearly immediately started snoring, Feryn and Grizzop had started deciding what food to order for dinner that night. As they spoke, Azu had gently escorted Sasha into the bathroom, leaving the door open only a crack as Sasha sat on the edge of the small bathtub, holding her arm carefully.

“Let me try this,” Azu says as she finishes binding it, and holds her hands over Sasha’s arm. “With your permission?”

Sasha nods, and Azu lets her hand gently rest on Sasha’s arm. “I don’t have  _ much  _ magic, but I should hopefully be able to numb it so it doesn’t hurt as much,” she explains, and Sasha presses her lips together in a tight line.

“Alright,” she says, and Azu closes her eyes. The familiar press of magic sings through her veins, a comforting warmth, and it flows through her skin as she focuses on Sasha’s arm, focuses on helping someone she cares about. 

It tingles down her arm and through her fingers, little sparks of electricity that pass through from her to Sasha, and then it fades slowly. She lets go of Sasha’s arm, gingerly, and rests her hands on her thighs.

“How’s that?” she asks, heart slightly in her throat from nerves, and Sasha rotates it this way and that, careful not to move too quickly.

“It - s’good, er - it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did,” Sasha admits, still holding it a little gingerly. “Cheers.”

Azu beams up at her. “Good!” she says, excited, and then pulls the bandages back over to her side. “Let me just finish splinting it and then you should be all right.”

Sasha makes a noncommittal noise but doesn’t protest, so Azu gets to work, moving in silence. She carefully ties the splint around Sasha’s arm, making sure it’s as secure as she can make it. “Is this comfortable?” she asks, and Sasha gives a one-shouldered shrug. 

“As good as it could feel, I suppose,” she says, and tests out her range of movement. Suddenly, quicker than Azu’s eyes can catch it, there’s a dagger in her hand as she tosses it up and down, catching it on every try, even the more complicated tosses. The dagger is gone soon enough, slotted away into a pocket Azu can’t see. It’s not long before she’s wincing again, and Azu reaches out unconsciously, catching Sasha’s hand in hers. 

“You should - er…” she trails off as Sasha’s eyes flick up to meet hers, and Azu loses her train of thought. Her eyes really are lovely, she thinks, and then Sasha quirks an eyebrow in confusion and Azu drops her hand, shaking her head. “Sorry, I - you should be more careful. It’s going to take at least a day to get back to normal, even with the healing.”

Sasha doesn’t respond for a moment, just staring at Azu. It almost seems like she wants to say something, words caught in the back of her throat, and Azu finds herself leaning slightly forward.

There’s a knock at the door, and then Grizzop pokes his head through as Azu nearly leaps backward. She crashed into the towel holder, knocking her head against it, and Grizzop gives her an unimpressed look when she turns to look at him, slowly shaking his head.

Azu can feel herself blushing furiously, and when she looks back at Sasha she’s got some red on her cheeks as well. She reaches down, and Azu takes her hand, letting her be helped back up to her feet.

“Alright, Grizzop?” Sasha asks, and drops Azu’s hand.

“Food’s up,” he says, and leans in the doorway. “Feryn and Hamid ordered enough to feed a small army, so eat as much as you want.”

He disappears into the room after one more loaded look between the two of them, and Azu staunchly doesn’t look at Sasha as the door swings shut behind him. 

Neither of them speak for a moment, and then Sasha clears her throat. “We should, er - seems like everyone else is eating, so we should… head out.

“Yes, we - yes,” Azu stammers, and Sasha raises her eyebrow. “After you “ she ends up saying, lamely, and follows Sasha out of the bathroom. 

—

Zolf sits back against the wall and tilts his head up, staring at the ceiling. A few beds away, Feryn is snoring as loud as he always does. Azu and Sasha have taken the other bed in the corner (and if they’re laying, well, a bit closer than Zolf had expected them to, it’s none of his business), and Grizzop has commandeered the armchair on the opposite side of the room. Hamid and Zolf had had a very brief muttered argument over who got the final space in the bed until Hamid pointed out that the couch was too short for Zolf and honestly, Hamid didn’t really  _ want  _ to sleep with Zolf’s brother (a bit of phrasing that had caused Zolf to splutter but had also effectively ended the argument as Zolf decided to just… take the bed and move on from the entire conversation).

All of them apart from Hamid and Zolf seem to be sleeping, if not peacefully than at least soundly, although Zolf knows Sasha enough to know that even the slightest noise can mean she’ll be waking up with a dagger in her hand. He’s been on the opposite end of it enough times.

Hamid is… coherent, really, but deep enough in his cups to be leaning against the wall next to Zolf with his head on Zolf’s shoulder as he slurs his way through an explanation of… something, Zolf really hasn’t been listening as attentively as he maybe should have. 

He’d had only woken up from his impromptu nap a few hours ago; the rest of them had been drinking steadily since making it to the hotel. Zolf had stumbled into the inn, and then Sasha had led him and Azu up to the room they had decided to share. The innkeeper had seemed a bit, well, confused, but hadn’t argued. Sasha had flipped another key to the room to Feryn, and they’d all gone upstairs. The room only had two beds, but it did have an armchair and a couch, and no one was willing to let someone else out of their sight this time.

That’s really all Zolf remembers; he’d slept for most of the carriage ride there, and the moment he’d gotten back to the hotel room, he’d collapsed on one of the beds, exhausted. Apparently, the rest of them had ordered room service, more than enough for all of them, and had discussed what they needed to do next and how they were going to get to Alexandria. Zolf, however, hadn’t participated in any of this. He’d passed out like a light the second they got back to the hotel room, sleeping only for a few hours. When he’d woken up, finally completely free of the drug he’d been given the night before, everyone had been crouched around a frankly terrifying amount of food, all a bit deep in their cups. Zolf hadn’t really felt the need to join them on the alcohol side - he’d just gotten rid of whatever had been clouding his mind, he really didn’t have any desire to let another thing do it, even intentionally. 

He’d thought Hamid would have gone to bed with the rest of them, but he’d insisted on staying up, slowly gravitating closer to Zolf as everyone fell asleep one by one. He doesn’t exactly know when Hamid had ended up with his head resting on Zolf’s shoulder, hand nearly brushing his on the ground between them. They haven’t actually been speaking too much; Hamid’s been talking intermittently, slurring slightly as he chats, but for the most part Zolf is reading an old favorite Campbell novel of his while Hamid hums an unfamiliar song under his breath.

It’s… nice, even if Feryn’s snores keep breaking it up. 

“Zolf?” Hamid asks, eventually, and Zolf marks his spot in the book, hearing the weight behind the words.

“Hmm?” he says, setting the book down on the table next to him. Fingers press, gently, against his other hand, and he tilts it up so his palm faces upward when it’s nudged. Hamid threads their fingers together, his silken gloves rubbing against Zolf’s  _ much  _ cheaper ones, and then his other hand joins, bracketing Zolf’s hand.

“I was so scared,” Hamid says, and he’s slurring  _ less  _ as the alcohol works its way through his system, but his eyes are still a little unfocused as he adjusts his head on Zolf’s shoulder, forehead pressing against his cheek. “I - I’m so sorry. I should have heard them.”

“Oh, hey,” Zolf says, and turns to face Hamid. He’s closer than Zolf expected, and he nearly stutters when an errant flash of ‘ _ he’s beautiful’ _ streaks across his mind. “It’s not your fault, you know.”

“But it  _ feels  _ like it is,” he mumbles, and Zolf doesn’t completely know what to do with an armful of nearly crying Hamid, so he just settles for awkwardly stroking Hamid’s back. “I shouldn’t have left.”

Zolf shakes his head. “The last thing I’d want is for you to have been kidnapped with me,” he says, awkward and stilted even in his earnestness, and Hamid just sniffs, loudly.

“I thought - I -“ he hiccoughs a bit, and Zolf rests his hand on Hamid’s cheek, thumb stroking along his skin. 

“Hamid, you  _ saved  _ me today. All of you,” Zolf says, sincere as anything, and Hamid looks up at him finally. “I should be thanking you.” Hamid doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring up at him through half-lidded teary eyes. 

“Please don’t get abducted again,” he says, swaying ever closer, and Zolf puts up a hand to catch him from nearly falling into his lap. Hamid’s hand feels like it’s on  _ fire _ , even through the glove where it rests on his shoulder, and he looks up at Zolf.

“I won’t,” Zolf promises, and he’s no stranger to the way that Hamid’s eyes drop until they’re resting on Zolf’s lips. 

“Good,” Hamid says, leaning in until Zolf can nearly feel the word against his lips, and then Hamid’s kissing him, gloved hand coming up to press against his cheek. He tastes like strawberries and wine and he’s  _ kissing Zolf _ , and there’s nothing Zolf can do but kiss back. Hamid’s lips are slick and warm, and Zolf feels himself getting lost in the kiss. Hamid’s other arm comes up and wraps around his neck, pulling him in, and Zolf wraps an arm around Hamid’s back, keeping one on the floor to keep the both of them steady. 

Hamid breaks away to breathe, but doesn’t move far, breaths mingling in between them as their noses brush against each other. 

“ _ Zolf _ ,” he whispers. “I -“ he cuts himself off as he leans back in, and, oh, their lips slot together perfectly as Hamid uses the hand on Zolf’s cheek to tilt his head just the correct way. Zolf’s hand traces a line up and down Hamid’s back, pressing against his spine and he presses Hamid closer into himself. Hamid gasps and he pulls, hand tight on Hamid’s waist as Hamid swings his legs around so that he’s straddling his lap. Zolf tenses, and Hamid immediately pulls back, brows pulling together in concern. 

“Is - did I do something wrong?” he asks, voice carefully pitched low, and Zolf shakes his head. 

“No, I’m just not - not interested in. Well. That. And it was. Unexpected,” Zolf mumbles, keeping his eyes closed so he doesn’t have to see whatever look is on Hamid’s face. Neither of them move for a moment, and then Zolf feels Hamid clamber off of his lap. He leans his head back against the wall, expecting to hear Hamid slowly padding away toward the couch. 

Instead, he feels Hamid press a kiss to his cheek and turns, spotting Hamid sitting on his knees at his side. “Is… this alright?” he asks, holding one of Zolf’s hands between his and pressing another kiss to his knuckles. He moves down, pressing a kiss to his wrist, and then back up to his palm, and that’s all the invitation Zolf needs to rest his hand on the back of Hamid’s neck and pull him in. 

“It’s more than alright,” he says back, and then Hamid’s mouth is on his again, and, oh, Zolf feels like he could stay like this forever.

They kiss lazily, unhurried, Zolf’s hands framing Hamid’s face while Hamid’s arms loop around his neck. He loses track of time, focused solely on the slow slide of Hamid’s lips against him, but he becomes acutely aware of how late it is when Hamid yawns in the middle of a kiss. 

“Okay, that’s it. You need to go to sleep,” Zolf says, gently pushing him away, and Hamid pouts up at him, cheeks rosy from the wine.

“I still want to kiss you,” Hamid veritably pouts, and Zolf can’t help the small chuckle he gives at that. 

“If you’re still sober tomorrow and want to kiss me, we can, okay?” Zolf says, trying and failing to hide the smile, which just leads to Hamid sticking his bottom lip out even  _ more _ . He slumps forward, forehead pressing into Zolf’s shoulder, arms hanging loosely around his neck.

“D’you promise?” Hamid asks, tilting his head just enough so that he can look up at Zolf through half-lidded eyes. “I - I  _ like  _ kissing you.”

“I like kissing you too, Hamid,” Zolf says, and a wave of warmth sweeps through his chest. Hamid makes a happy noise and burrows closer. pressing a soft kiss to the side of Zolf’s neck. 

“I’m tired,” Hamid says with a yawn, snuggling closer into Zolf’s side as he paws at Zolf’s arm, tugging on it until their fingers are interlaced.

“You have your own - Hamid,” Zolf tries, but Hamid is already wrapping Zolf’s arm around his waist, tucking his head into Zolf’s shoulder. “Just - Hamid -“ but it’s too late. It’s useless, really; Hamid’s basically already asleep, simply making himself more comfortable until he’s snoring slightly against Zolf’s shoulder, hair tickling his neck. He’s like a furnace where he’s pressed against Zolf’s side, and even through the gloves Zolf can feel the heat of Hamid’s hand where it rests on his arm. 

He glances around helplessly; no one seems to have woken up from any of that, not even Sasha, who sleeps lighter than anyone he’s ever met. She’s still snoring softly in her sleep as well, breaking up the silence of the room. 

Zolf gently pulls Hamid into his lap before standing up, careful not to wake him, and walks slowly over to the couch before laying him down. There’s a blanket hanging over the seat, and he tugs it so that Hamid is completely covered before stepping back. 

He stands there for… longer than he cares to admit, really. Mapping the planes of Hamid’s face with his eyes, memorizing the way Hamid curls into himself on the couch with the absence of anything else to hold on to.

Zolf sighs, quiet, and runs a hand down his face. Gods. He’s only known Hamid for a few  _ days _ , but there’s… this feeling in his chest isn’t anything he’s ever felt before. But it feels. Right. Somehow.

“Get it together, Zolf,” he mutters to himself, and shakes his head to try and clear it. It’s - he shouldn’t get this attached, not this quickly. 

But. Nothing stops him from leaning down and pressing a kiss, as soft as Zolf can ever let himself be, to Hamid’s forehead. Hamid doesn’t react - not like Zolf thought he would - but Zolf still rises slowly, reaching out to brush a single stray curl off of Hamid’s forehead.

“Night,” he murmurs, and then retreats back to what’s safe, curling up alone on his side of the bed and trying not to think about how much he wishes he could still feel Hamid’s warmth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have been feeling slightly weird abt my writing recently so kudos and comments are supes appreciated ty ily also hmu on tumblr at ohallows and shoot me a prompt if you’d like!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woof sorry for the long wait everyone this is a long(ish) chapter (‘twas gonna be longer but i split it in 2 bc i still have loads to write in the second half and wanted to get this up!) hope u enjoy :)

The boat rocks and crashes through the waves, water splashing into the air as it carves a path, pushed along by the wind. The crew scuttle about on board, calling commands to each other as they climb around the mast. For once, they have perfect weather - the sun is barely shining overhead, but it’s pleasantly warm and there’s a nice breeze that’s coming off the water. 

It’s been about three days now, on a boat that they’d convinced (with a hefty amount of coin, thanks to Hamid) to make a quick pit stop in unoccupied Alexandria, and they’re nearly there - maybe only half a day’s journey away. They’re lucky, as well. It’s a passenger ship, one that just so happens to have a number of merchants on board, with a good stock of their wares as well. Zolf knows that's not how they normally travel, and has sent up any number of thanks to whatever god is listening. They’ve been able to buy weapons just for this - Sasha, Azu, and Grizzop had already been kitted out, although Zolf had seen her eyeing a wickedly sharp serrated dagger with a keen eye, and when he’d looked back, it had been missing, so he thinks Sasha had made her own version of a purchase. 

He and Feryn, on the other hand, had bought an axe each, sharp blades that Zolf nearly nicked himself on that first day. It had been easy enough to explain it away as them going hunting in a new land without knowing what to expect, and the merchants had been happy enough to have more coin in their pocket. 

They’d offered to get Hamid something as well - Sasha had actually tried to hand him a dagger, which had shocked Zolf to the core. She’d only shared a dagger with him about half a year after they’d first met, but now he recognises it as her trying to protect Hamid the best she can. It’s… touching, almost, and he’d resolved not to lecture her about swiping the fancy dagger after that. 

Zolf’s spent most of the time brooding and avoiding Feryn, mostly because he’ll press and press until Zolf can’t avoid the subject anymore, and Zolf kind of wants to just. Avoid the subject. 

Well. He does, and he doesn’t. If Hamid brought it up, he’d be happy not to avoid it, but, well. 

They haven’t spoken about the kiss. Zolf hasn’t mentioned anything, waiting for Hamid to take the lead, but the morning after… it, Hamid had just loudly complained about how his head hurt more than it ever had and how he barely remembered making it to the couch. Zolf has decided to let it go then and there, and if his heart had sunk a bit when Hamid hadn’t mentioned anything, well. They were still in the same spot as before, yeah? Zolf shouldn’t have expected anything. 

Anyways. It’s been three days, quickly about to become a fourth, and neither of them have really spoken beyond a few short interactions - Zolf can’t really blame Hamid, though; he’s got another awful case of seasickness, and has spent most of the time in the head or leaning over the side of the boat. 

It’s fine. It’s not the first time he’s thought maybe, maybe, and had to give up in the end, and it won’t be the last. Hell, he doesn’t even know if Hamid or Azu will want to be around them once this whole thing is sorted, although he’s hoping they will be. It’s only been a little over a week with them, but they already feel like they belong. They’ve worked their way into Zolf’s heart, albeit in very different ways, and he doesn’t want to just have to say goodbye at the end of all this. It’s all… twisting him up, inside, a weird spot in his chest that he can’t unravel, but he doesn’t know what else to do about it. It’s - frustrating isn’t the word, not really, but it feels… unfinished, somehow. Still. He’d promised himself not to push Hamid, and if -

Droplets of water hit his face and he splutters as he’s knocked out of his slowly spiraling thoughts, glancing left and right until he hears a noise from above and looks up. Sasha is dangling there in the ratlines, hair damp. Zolf realises she must have shaken it out, spraying it onto him, and rolls his eyes. 

“What was that for?” Zolf greets as she appears beside him, looking for all the world like she was born and raised on a ship. The ship gives an awful lurch, and Zolf spares a quick thought for how awfully Hamid must be feeling. Sasha doesn’t seem to mind, moving with it, and then she swings her legs around so that she’s sitting next to where Zolf is standing, still tangled up in rope. 

She just shrugs. “Bored. You looked too peaceful, sitting there.”

Zolf rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything in return. Sasha’s got a weird knack for knowing when he’s too locked in his own head, whether from nightmares or depression or just plain spiraling, and she’s second only to Feryn in helping him get out of it. 

They sit there in a comfortable silence, Sasha’s legs swinging back and forth rhythmically. Around them, the crew are transitioning to the night shift,

passing each other as they come up and down from the different decks. A few brush by Sasha and Zolf, but don’t pay them much mind. Zolf supposes that’s to be expected, on a passenger ship like this. A clear line of separation between the passengers and the crew. 

“What d’you think is gonna happen when we get there?” Sasha asks, breaking the silence, and Zolf chews on the inside of his lip. His hand drifts down to his ring and starts twisting it, unconsciously. 

“I have no idea,” he answers honestly. “Hope to get some answers, I suppose.” 

“Think there will be an ambush?” she asks, and pulls a dagger out, flipping it. 

Zolf… doesn’t know. “Maybe?” he answers. “I don’t think there’s any way they could know we were coming, but scrying exists, I suppose. And they’ve been nearly one whole step ahead of us so far. Wouldn’t discount it entirely.”

“We’ll be ready if they’re waiting for us,” Sasha says, grimly determined. “I’m tired of them getting the jump.”

Zolf thinks about the hatchet sitting next to his hammock and nods in agreement. “Even if they do, it won’t last for long. If we go in expecting a trap, we already have an advantage when the trap is sprung, yeah? Then we just gotta. Take them out, I guess.”

As far as plans go, it’s not the most well-thought-out one he’s ever come up with, but it seems to satisfy Sasha, at the very least. And Zolf doesn’t really… have any bright ideas. He’s pretty sure they’re walking right into a trap, but there’s not much they can do about it except be ready. Stopping now isn’t really an option; he and Hamid (none of them, really) couldn’t just go back to life as usual, knowing there’s something out there, a prophecy about the two of them. Zolf doesn’t have any reason to believe the cult will stop coming after the two of them; this has to end now, somehow. He isn’t sure what that looks like, not really, but he knows that none of them are willing to quit until all of this is sorted.

“You alright?” Sasha asks, and Zolf looks at

her out of the corner of his eye. 

“Just peachy,” he says. “Running around the world trying to figure out if there’s a prophecy about the fact that my magic hands bring people back to life. Couldn’t be better.”

“You don’t need to be a dick about it,” Sasha grumbles. 

Zolf sighs. “Sorry. Bit tense.”

Sasha gives a satisfied huff and leans into the ropes again, 

“Did something… happen?” she asks, and swings around once more until she’s facing the night sky. Zolf follows her lead, resting his forearms on the wooden edge of the ship. 

Gods, he’ll never get tired of how beautiful the night sky gets, over the water. It looks like it could go on forever, and the reflection of the stars twinkling on the water makes it look like the sky is moving. He’s amazed by how bright it gets, even at night, just from the stars. 

“Why do you think something happened?” Zolf asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Sasha shrugs. “Something’s been off, since Rome.”

“Well, I did get kidnapped,” Zolf says, drily, and Sasha leans back into the ropes. 

“Not that, you arse, you’re just… dunno. You’re acting…” Sasha trails off, and then flicks him in the shoulder. “Weird.” 

Zolf pushes her back - or, well, tries to, but she climbs away before he can make contact. “Oi.” 

“What? You are,” she says, sulking a bit. “But it’s only ever around Hamid. Do you need me to…” she trails off and makes a completely incomprehensible motion with her hands, something that Zolf thinks is meant to be vaguely threatening.

“Er - no? No, it’s - it’s. Fine? You don’t have to. Whatever that is,” Zolf says. Sasha doesn’t look completely convinced, but she settles a bit. 

“Okay, but just say the word,” she mutters, and Zolf shakes his head. 

“Thanks, Sasha,” he says.

“I do think you two should talk,” she says, moving right along, and Zolf raises his eyebrow.

“I said it was fine,” he reminds her, but Sasha just rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, because you always tell the truth?” she says.

“Hah,” he responds, and pushes Sasha away. She doesn’t dodge out of the way this time, and the ratlines move with her, swaying gently. 

“Really, boss,” Sasha says. “You should… I mean, if this is really it, you should talk about it.”

Zolf raises an eyebrow at her. “Coming from you?”

“I’m serious.” 

“Yeah, well,” Zolf starts, and then realises he doesn’t know how he wants to finish that sentence. So he doesn’t, lapsing into silence. Sasha seems to take it much like she takes other things, and doesn’t push and prod as he tries to organise his thoughts again. “I’ll think about it. Is that good enough?”

Sasha shrugs. “It’s not me who it’s going to affect.”

Zolf twists the ring on his finger around and around as he thinks about it. Sasha’s right, she’s nearly always right, but he still… he doesn’t know. It just feels so big, somehow, even with everything else happening, that he doesn’t know how to address it. 

“You heading down to bed?” he asks, eventually, when he doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

Sasha shakes her head. “I’m on first watch,” she explains, and Zolf nods. 

“Night, Sasha,” he says, patting her on the shoulder. She leans into it, but only for a moment, and then pulls away.

“Night, boss,” she says, climbing back up until she’s out of sight. Zolf watches her go, and then pushes off of the edge of the boat, stretching out his back as he makes his way to the stairs down to the passenger deck of the ship. 

They’ve been sharing a room - all of them, with Sasha and Azu getting their own a ways down the hall for some semblance of privacy on the ship. Azu, Grizzop, Feryn, and Sasha have been alternating the night watches; Hamid’s been falling asleep earlier than them all, and staying asleep longer than them as well. Zolf can’t blame him, really. When you’re seasick, the less time you’re conscious, the better. However, this does mean Zolf expects Hamid to be asleep in his hammock by the time he makes it down to the room. 

Tonight, though, he’s not; he’s got a book open on his lap and a small candle is burning, to give some light in the room. He looks up at Zolf enters, face brightening as he saves his page in the book and sets it aside on a small table.

“Good evening, Zolf!” Hamid greets, and Zolf gives him a grunt in return.

“Feeling any better?” he asks, and Hamid shrugs.

“Staying down here has helped, but not much. I think I’m starting to get used to it, though. Didn’t feel nauseous half as often, today.”

Zolf claps him on the shoulder and then sits on the trunk next to his own hammock. He pulls off his prosthetic and rubs at the end of his leg, wincing a bit. 

“Is it sore?” Hamid asks, glancing over curiously. Zolf nods, scooching back a bit so that he can rest his leg on the trunk. He starts to massage it, working his fingers along the muscle to try and ease some of the pain. 

“Acts up a bit, sometimes. No rhyme or reason to it, but it gets irritated. This helps.” Hamid doesn’t say anything, but Zolf can feel his eyes on him as he continues to massage 

“You can ask,” Zolf says, trying for dry and landing more solidly on fond than he wanted to.

“Are you sure?” Hamid asks, hesitant as anything, and Zolf shrugs. 

“Sure,” Zolf says and Hamid keeps watching, almost uncharacteristically silent. The muscles tense up when he has it on too long, and massaging them away is the best thing to get rid of the pain. They sit there in silence together for a moment, Zolf massaging his leg and Hamid watching, curious. 

“How did it happen?” Hamid finally asks, and Zolf’s hands pause in their ministrations.

“When I was 18, I was in a mining accident,” Zolf says. He knows he told Hamid he could ask, but he still doesn’t much like talking about it. “Cave-in. Me and Feryn were down there alone, I kicked a post, and then the entire thing nearly came down on our heads. He dragged me away, but a piece of rock crushed my leg before we could make it out. No saving it.” 

“Oh, dear,” Hamid says, and leans forward, hand raised as though he’s going to touch it before pulling it back, looking slightly ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

“S’fine,” Zolf says, a bit short, and Hamid clasps his hands together in his lap. “Been years.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s easier,” Hamid murmurs, and Zolf swallows. 

It’s true; there are still nights where Zolf wakes up gasping as his mouth slowly fills with clay and dirt, where he wakes up grabbing for Feryn just to prove they’re both alive. The nightmares are less, now, but sometimes the thoughts still creep in, overtaking every other sense until he can break his way out.

A hand lands on his arm and Zolf realises how tense he’s gotten, how tightly squeezed his eyes are. He takes a deep breath, and opens his eyes to see Hamid sitting there, staring at Zolf worriedly. His hand holds tightly onto Zolf’s forearm, and Zolf focuses on that sensation. It helps - helps bring him back to himself, helps him not fall back into those memories. Normally, he can manage them fine, lock them back behind walls that he’s constructed specifically to be strong, but with all the stress of the past week or so, it’s a bit harder to push everything down.

“Sorry, I didn’t -“ Hamid says, squeezing gently, and Zolf shakes his head. 

“It’s okay,” he mumbles. “Sometimes… the memories hit when I’m least expecting.”

He leans back against the wooden post; his leg feels better now, the muscles relaxed and as painless as they ever are. 

“Did you ever try to… heal it?” Hamid asks.

“What?”

“I mean, couldn’t you…” Hamid trails off, and Zolf looks over, eyebrow raised. Hamid just wiggles his fingers, giving him a meaningful look. “You know.”

Zolf stares at him for a moment longer, just long enough for Hamid’s hand to fall to his lap and for him to look even more awkward. “No, I couldn’t,” he finally answers, and Hamid tilts his head, confused. “Doesn’t work that way. And I wouldn’t want to, anyway. I don’t - it’s not something that I need fixed. It’s just - I mean, it’s a part of me, now.”

“...Oh,” Hamid says, quietly. “I’m sorry for assuming.” 

“You don’t need to keep saying sorry, you know. I told you you could ask,” Zolf says, and Hamid laughs, quietly.

“My older sisters always say I’m too inquisitive for my own good,” he says, playing with a loose thread on his trousers. “I guess they were right.”

Zolf laughs at that, a quiet snort. “Feryn used to say the same about me, when we were kids.”

“You?” Hamid asks, disbelieving, and then claps his hand over his mouth. “Sorry! Sorry, that - I didn’t mean -“

Zolf can’t help it; he laughs a bit at how quickly Hamid tries to backtrack. “It’s - Hamid, it’s okay - I - I know how it sounds. I’m not the biggest talker these days.”

Hamid gives him a bit of a weak smile, clearly still feeling awkward about it, and then the room falls silent, but only for a moment.

“Actually, I - I have another question, if that’s alright?” Hamid asks, hesitant. “It’s - it’s not about your leg, I promise.”

“Er - yeah, ah. Go ahead?” Zolf says, a little cautious just from Hamid’s tone already. He braces himself, not sure what to expect.

“Were you the one who put me on the sofa, that last night in Rome? I - I know I was quite drunk, but some of the memories are starting to come back. I still don’t remember how -“

“You passed out,” Zolf says, shifting a bit as Hamid seems to be getting uncomfortably close to something else that happened that night. “Didn’t think you’d want to wake up on the floor the next morning, and everyone else was asleep.”

“Oh.Thank you,” Hamid says, eyebrows knitting together. He still doesn’t look completely content with that answer, and it’s clear that he’s working something over and over again in his mind. 

“You alright?” Zolf asks, getting a little worried when Hamid’s face experiences about eight different emotions at once. 

“Oh my gods,” Hamid whispers, face slowly lighting up a dull red as a blush spreads across his cheeks. “Did we - you and I, I mean - er, we -“

“Yes, Hamid,” Zolf says, and braces himself for the inevitable reaction, the inevitable rejection.

Hamid doesn’t say anything for a moment, staring down at his hands. He stands up, still not looking at Zolf, and then takes a step forward. The candlelight flickers around the room, casting shadows on the planes of Hamid’s face, and Zolf steels himself, because this is it, this is the moment when Hamid walks out that door and doesn’t ever want to -

“You said - you said if I still wanted to kiss you when I was sober, you’d - you’d like that,” Hamid says, hesitant. 

“I’d - I did,” Zolf says, and he’s shocked because Hamid isn’t running, isn’t trying to explain that it was just because Zolf was there. Instead, he’s taking another step forward, until he’s standing in between Zolf’s legs, close enough that Zolf could easily just pull him down. His hands find Zolf’s fingers, tangling them together, and when he looks back up at Zolf, his eyes are shining with a tentative hope.

“Do you - still feel that way?” Hamid asks, and Zolf doesn’t know how to do anything but nod dumbly, staring up at Hamid. 

“Y - yeah, I - I’d like that,” Zolf says, and Hamid leans in even closer. 

“Good,” Hamid breathes, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of Zolf’s mouth. It lights Zolf up from the inside until he feels like he can’t breathe, but he’s not about to lean away from this for all the money in the world. It’s easy to tilt Hamid’s chin just enough until their lips are meeting properly, sliding against each other. Hamid’s hands pull away from him and Zolf tenses, but relaxes when they return, wrapping around the back of his neck and holding on. He rests his own against the small of Hamid’s back, pulling him even closer. Hamid’s grip gets tighter as he gasps into Zolf’s mouth, fingers threading through his hair and tugging slightly.

The door slams open without warning, and Zolf lurches back, smacking the back of his head on the wooden post.

“Oh, so sorry to interrupt,” Feryn says, and Zolf swears, rubbing at the small bump that’s definitely forming on the back of his skull. Zolf glares at him, trying to silently convey that if Hamid wasn’t still standing between his legs, Zolf would be beating Feryn up with his prosthetic. He either doesn’t get the message or, more likely, thinks it’s an empty threat and is therefore unbothered. 

“What, Feryn?” he growls. Hamid, for his part, is blushing furiously, but he can’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips as he looks at Zolf. His hands drop from around his neck to hold one of his hands, and Zolf feels the fight slowly bleed out of him. 

“Well, it’s late and I was coming to bed, but if you two would rather I -“

Zolf groans, loudly, and rests his head back against the post, already forgetting about the bump. He hisses in pain, and sits back up, squeezing his eyes shut. Hamid makes a sympathetic noise and squeezes Zolf’s hand, giving him something else to focus on outside of the pain and embarrassment. 

“Feryn, you know nothing would even be happening,” Zolf says, and Feryn holds his hands up.

“Just being a good older brother!” he says. “And yeah, obviously not, but if you two just wanted to smush lips for a bit, I can make myself scarce.”

“I -“ Hamid starts, looking between the two of them. He can’t completely hide the look of amusement on his face, even though it softens out when he looks at Zolf. “I think the mood has been ruined.”

“Blame me,” Feryn apologises, and Zolf throws a pillow at him.

“I do,” he says, and he knows he’s being petulant as hell, but Feryn just throws the pillow back at him. 

“I’ll knock next time,” Feryn promises, making an X over his heart. “You’re just lucky it was me and not Grizzop.”

Zolf considers it for a moment, and realises Feryn might be technically right, but that doesn’t make him any less irritated. 

An awkward silence stretches around the room as Feryn just leans in the doorway. Hamid is still stood between Zolf’s legs, looking between the both of them with an embarrassed and conflicted look on his face. 

“Are you sure you don’t -“ Feryn starts, smiling widely, and Zolf leans over for his prosthetic. Hamid gets in the way, though, and he can’t reach it, so he just throws his hands up. 

“I’m going to bed,” he announces, and gives Hamid half a wounded look when he laughs quietly.

“No, don’t -“ Hamid says, sobering up and grabbing Zolf’s hands again before he can pull away; his fingers tangle with Zolf’s. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise. The kiss was… very nice, er - I enjoyed it, but I’m also actually tired and the nausea is coming back? So maybe we should. All get some sleep.”

“He makes a wonderful point, Zolf,” Feryn says, but Zolf just ignores him.

“Okay,” he says, to Hamid and Hamid only. He’s way too aware of Feryn being in the room to even address any of the rest. “Yeah, er - I - me too.”

The corner of Hamid’s mouth twitches up just a bit, into a half-smile, and for a moment Zolf’s tempted to pull him back in for another kiss, but Feryn shuffles by them and climbs up into the hammock above Zolf, and the urge disappears. 

“Night, Hamid,” he says instead, and Hamid presses a kiss to Zolf’s cheek before retreating to his own hammock. 

“Night, Zolf,” Hamid says, just a whisper, and then lays down. Zolf follows suit, stretching his arms above his head before settling down in the hammock. 

“Night, you two,” Feryn says, nearly sing-song, and Zolf shakes his head in irritation, punching the hammock above him. He’s rewarded with a cry of pain as his fist connects; Feryn’s obviously putting it on a bit, but he does shut up after that. 

Hamid laughs, across the way. “Good night, Feryn,” he says, only slightly teasing Zolf. 

“Good night, Hamid,” Feryn says, very pointedly leaving Zolf off, and Zolf just rolls his eyes, turning over and doing his best to fall asleep while Hamid and Feryn snicker behind and above him. 

His dreams are unremarkable, half-remembered and unimportant. He wakes up the next morning to shouting on the top deck, and Feryn shaking him awake, an excited look on his face. 

“They’ve spotted Alexandria.”

“What - really?” he asks, and Feryn nods. 

“Come on, up - you’re going to want to see it,” he says, and hands Zolf his prosthetic. “Double time.”

Zolf shoots him a half-hearted glare and takes his time getting his prosthetic on correctly. Feryn offers him a hand and Zolf grabs it, letting himself be hauled to his feet. 

“Hamid already up?” he asks, and Feryn nods.

“Everyone else is already on deck. Decided to let you get some more sleep this morning. Grab your pack and let’s go.”

Zolf does, grabbing his rucksack off the ground and slinging it over his shoulder. He slings his hatchet into the band around his waist and then follows Feryn up the stairs to the main deck of the ship. 

He has to shield his eyes the moment they get up onto the deck. The sun is streaming down on them, reflecting off of the water all around them. It’s a far cry from the dour fogginess of their last journey. Alexandria itself is much more welcoming than Rome, already, with the city crowding up against the sea. It looks open and warm, with crowded streets of automobiles and carriages alike. In the distance, overlooking the sea, is a tall and imposing building that must be the palace. 

“Won’t be long until we dock. You ready?” Feryn asks, and nudges Zolf when he doesn’t answer immediately. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready,” Zolf says, even though he isn’t completely sure it’s true. The nerves have settled into a ball in his stomach, a tight and uncomfortable thing, and he almost feels nauseous as he watches Alexandria come ever closer. He leans on the railing, staring out at the city, and Feryn claps him on the shoulder.

“Hey. We’ll all be okay, yeah? I’m not going to let anything happen to you. To any of you,” Feryn amends, and Zolf chews on the inside of his cheek. 

“...Yeah,” he says, and he knows Feryn means it but sometimes there’s just nothing you can do. His knuckles tighten where they grip the railing. 

“Zolf. Look at me,” Feryn says, in his ‘I’m-your-older-brother-so-no-arguing’ tone, and so Zolf does. “You gonna be okay if I go chat with the captain about this place? I don’t want to leave you alone if not.”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine, Feryn,” Zolf says. It’s - it’s really not a lie, as much as it almost feels like one. He will be fine, apart from the nervous energy and the slowly spiraling thoughts, but he’s had those for years and he knows how to deal with them by now. 

Feryn pulls him into a quick hug. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

Zolf salutes him as he leaves, and then goes back to staring over the side of the ship and watching Alexandria come ever closer. His fingers tap against the railing, an intermittent rhythm that helps keep him focused. 

Hamid picks a good time to come over to him, sliding up next to Zolf and resting one of his hands on Zolf’s. For a moment, Zolf wonders if Feryn sent him over, but realises he doesn’t really care either way.

“Hey, Hamid. Feeling better?” he asks, and Hamid gives him a weak grin. He does look paler than usual, but he seems… steadier, almost. 

“Could be worse,” Hamid answers. “It’s better, seeing land on the horizon. Nice to know that it’s almost over.”

Over. Yeah. Zolf knows he just means the whole ‘being on the sea’ thing, but he can’t help but wonder if Hamid will be just as happy for the rest of their journey to be over, too, and what that means for them. 

“Are you alright?” Hamid asks, looking concerned as he leans against Zolf’s side. Zolf leans back and then pulls his hand away from Hamid’s so that he can wrap it around his shoulders instead. 

“Nervous,” he says, short, and Hamid’s head brushes against his shoulder as he nods.

“Me too,” he says, quiet. “There’s just - there’s so much we don’t know, about this. So much that could happen and I just… I want everything to be okay.” He laughs, then, and shakes his head. “I know that sounds naive, but - I have to think it will be.”

Zolf chews on his lip for a moment and then presses a kiss to the side of Hamid’s head. “I can’t promise anything, but we’re going to try. And… I hope it will all be okay, in the end.” 

Hamid reaches over and takes his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. 

“It’ll be fine,” he says, sounding less sure than Zolf thinks he wants to. “It has to be.”

Zolf bites his lip. He’s glad Hamid is being optimistic, but he can’t quite get over the feeling of apprehension he’s had ever since first seeing the city. Hopefully, it’s nothing, and his worrying will be for naught. 

One of the crew members calls out that they’re nearly to the docks, and the deck bustles with activity, as the crew scrambles about to get ready to disembark. Zolf takes a steadying breath, taking one last look at the city before looking down at Hamid. 

“Ready?” he asks, fingers still tangled with Hamid’s, and Hamid stares off toward the city, a faraway look in his eyes.

“No,” Hamid says, honest, but he still turns back to face Zolf with a smile on his face. “But I’m not turning away now.”

“I’m not either,” Zolf says, and Hamid leans up

to kiss the side of his mouth. Zolf wants to pull him back in, wants to keep him there forever, but the ship’s bell starts to ring, signalling their arrival, and he resists pulling Hamid back in, content to just keep him close. 

The ship comes to a near complete stop at the dock, as the crew hop over the side to tie her down. The gangplank is extended, landing on the wood with a loud thud. Sasha, Grizzop, Azu, and Feryn all come up to stand behind them, determination on their faces, and together, they face the city. 

Here they go.

—

The stories of the library of Alexandria paint a beautiful picture of a building made of mithril and gold, the seat of knowledge in the entire world. Columns stretch as tall as the sky, beautiful pure-white marble that looks more smooth and polished than any other in the world. The domes, four on each side, had intricate metalwork spelling out stories for the ages, a marvel of ancient engineering that has stood the test of time.

Feryn hadn’t grown up hearing stories of it, but there had been an old couple in the village he and Zolf grew up in, two old, retired travelers who had spent their youth racing each other across the world. They’d told him and Zolf of distant lands, distant wonders, and for two kids who’d never left Somerset, spending lazy summer afternoons listening to tales from across the world had been an unlooked-for blessing.

They used to talk about this library, and the way their eyes lit up, Feryn had thought it must have been a marvel. A true wonder, a gorgeous piece of architecture that he would be dumbstruck to see. 

What they find… isn’t that. It hadn’t been hard to find it - everyone in town knew the stories of the library of Alexandria, and of the secrets it hid inside. The library had been majestic, once, but all the scholars had left for unknown reasons decades ago, and the library had quickly fallen into disrepair as all buildings on the side of a cliff over water are wont to do. Everyone they’d spoken to about it sounded almost… regretful, as though they’d wished there was something somebody could do. 

One person warned them of dangers inside; she worked late shifts at the factory down the road, and her route home took her by the library in the early hours of the morning, just before dawn broke. She said that she’d heard chanting coming from the library, heard what sounded like large creatures moving inside. Hamid had looked spooked out of his mind, Grizzop and Sasha had both looked ready to fight, Azu’s grip had tightened on her ax, and Feryn and Zolf has exchanged a look. 

They’d spent a little bit longer getting ready, after that, buying up some healing supplies as a just in case. And then, they’d set off for the library, eyes peeled. Feryn had expected something majestic, even after being told it had fallen into disrepair, but… when they finally make their way up to the steps leading into the building, Feryn is... in a word, unimpressed. 

The library is crumbling and broken, the front doors nearly falling down, held into place by rusty hinges. One of the wings looks completely destroyed, having fallen in on itself, while another looks like it’s barely standing. Still, he can see the majesty in it even now, crumbling all around him, but the sense of wonder is completely absent. 

They're going to have to be very careful, wandering around. The place looks like it could fall in more at any moment. Feryn doesn’t like it. He knows Zolf is going to hate it. 

“Okay,” he says, coming to a stop right outside the doors. “Is everyone ready?” 

They all nod. Grizzop and Sasha look as though they’re itching to just get inside, to get out of the open and into cover, even if that cover is teeming with enemies, and so Feryn decides to make this short. 

“It’s going to be a nasty fight,” he cautions, fingers tightening on the blade of his hatchet. “Not sure how many are waiting in there for us. Or if they know we’re coming. Stick together, and watch where you step.” He takes a deep breath. He has a lot of people to protect, this time, regardless of how capable they are of protecting themselves. 

Everyone pulls out their weapons; Hamid looks more scared than all of them combined, but he’s got an edge of determination there as well that Feryn feels almost proud to see. Grizzop and Sasha look as intense as ever, Grizzop with his bow and Sasha holding her daggers, with who knows how many more hidden away on her person. Azu’s got her axe out, and her face is set into a grim mask, stony and ready to go. Zolf has a matching hatchet, and he looks as though he’s gearing up for a fight; Feryn can understand, he still wants to crack a few heads together to make them pay for abducting him. 

No time left to waste, now. He pulls open the doors, and they’re cracked and broken, making a terrible grinding noise as he pulls at them. “Well. There goes the surprise,” he says, frowning, and escorts everyone inside. 

It’s time they made their stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ve decided the library of alexandria never truly burned down in this au because me rights
> 
> also fun fact in the og notes they just Didn’t talk about the kiss and went into the final battle having not spoken about it and then i went ‘actually fuck that’ and made them talk about it bc i would also like the romance please


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone’s read the great library series, that influence really comes into play in this part fnekdnejdns. also i’ve realised this cult is just my take on the yiga clan from botw fbskdbsjd it’s fine we’re fine.

Azu is... tense is the best word for it, really. Tense and  _ stressed _ and doing her best to not think about anything apart from the mission in front of them. 

They walk through the tattered remains of the library in silence; the entire thing is falling around them, and Grizzop has already almost fallen through a hole in the ground that collapsed under him before Sasha had lunged over and grabbed him. Most of the wings are completely collapsed, which makes it easy to search, but everything they’ve seen so far is either so broken as to render it useless or completely overgrown, with plants pushing through the cracks in the wood and stone. Everyone is on edge, jumping at every single noise, and Azu isn’t any better, holding onto her ax with what might as well be a death grip. 

They’ve mostly been on a long stretch of hallway for the past few minutes. On either side of the hallway are spaces for what must have been floor-to-ceiling windows, and the open space makes the entire hallway look brighter. Azu appreciates that, at least, and it helps her fight off the claustrophobia - having a fresh breeze coming off of the sea helps too, even if the slightly fishy smell makes her scrunch her nose. 

Eventually, they come across a large, open room - Azu thinks it must have been some sort of atrium, at one point, but maybe that’s just because the entire ceiling is gone, crumbled to the floor below. The sun pours into the room, reflecting off the marble columns and walls that are somehow still standing. It’s gorgeous, honestly. Plants have pushed through the floor, reclaiming the space for nature, and ivy and moss curl around all the bookshelves and cabinets that have tattered remains of manuscripts in them, somehow still intact enough to read. 

“This is amazing,” she breathes and at her side, Hamid spins around slowly in a circle, enraptured. 

“It’s - there’s so much  _ history  _ here, so much  _ knowledge.  _ How could it all have been forgotten?” he says, sounding almost forlorn as he brushes his hand carefully over the manuscripts. They seem to be impeccably preserved; there must be magic involved, considering that they don’t crumble at his touch. 

Azu picks up a book, and gently,  _ so  _ gently, thumbs through the pages. It feels so delicate in her hands, as light and soft as flower petals. The text is in some language she can’t read, but she thinks she recognises it as kanji or hanja. There are diagrams scribbled all over the pages, designs for machines she can’t understand but look more advanced than anything they have currently. It’s fascinating, and she finds herself enthralled by the book as she looks through the diagrams. 

There’s so  _ many  _ of them, just sitting here, left behind by… someone. She wishes she knew who designed all of this. But she doesn’t have time to investigate more, and Feryn’s voice cuts across her thoughts. 

“Ready to move on? One more room to check,” Feryn says, voice tight with tension. Azu understands. They still haven’t found anything useful, and they have no leads after this - if they don’t find anything here, they’ll be left spinning in circles. She sets down the book, pages rustling gently as she closes it, and starts to follow him out of the room. 

“Wait,” Grizzop says, and they all halt. He stares at the bookcase in the corner, an inquisitive look in his eyes. “There’s no  _ dust.” _

Azu tilts her head, confused. “No… dust?” 

Grizzop doesn’t answer, instead heading over to the bookcase. Azu exchanges a glance with Hamid, who looks equally as lost, and then they both turn to watch as Grizzop evaluates it from a number of different angles. He sets his bow down and starts feeling along the books, and then up and down the sides of the wood, before starting to inspect the space around it. 

“There’s no dust on the bookshelf. Everything else here is covered in it. Why wouldn’t this be?” Grizzop explains, and Azu feels everything click into place. “Just need to find the trigger. Whatever makes it go.”

“That’s very smart of you, Grizzop,” she says, and she swears he has a bit of a blush when he turns away from her.

“Er - thanks,” he mutters. “Ah!”

A switch flips, somewhere, a loud mechanical groaning that fills the room, and Grizzop backs away from the bookshelf, self-satisfied smile on his face as he crosses his arms. The bookshelf starts to rumble, but none of the books move from their positions as it starts to rotate, slowly, revealing a small entranceway into an adjoining room. 

“Told ya,” he says, more than a little smug. “No dust.”

“Great job, mate,” Feryn says, clapping Grizzop on the shoulder. “Let’s go.” He leads the way through the door, and Azu brings up the rear, gesturing for Hamid and Sasha to go in before she does, following behind Zolf and Grizzop. 

The room itself is larger and nicer than Azu thought it would be; she had almost been expecting some sort of… necromancer lair, almost, with slime crawling down the walls and dead things preserved in jars lining the shelves. But this just looks like a regular office; there’s a desk in the corner with a comfortable-looking chair, and bookshelves with fairly normal-looking novels. All told, it doesn’t look like the secret room of a cult intent on death and destruction. 

“Look at this,” Zolf calls, and she turns her attention to him, along with everyone else. He’s standing over a trapdoor in the middle of the room. It doesn’t look like it was ever meant to be hidden; she supposes it’s rather redundant to hide a trapdoor when the room it’s in is  _ already  _ hidden. “Feryn?”

“On it,” Feryn says, and takes up a position on the opposite side of the trapdoor, getting ready to lift it up as Zolf does the same. They strain for a moment, both gasping from the effort. 

“Oi, Azu, give us a hand?” Feryn calls, clearly straining. She scrambles over, nearly tripping over a few books scattered across the floor, and grabs another edge as Zolf and Feryn adjust their own grip. “Okay. On my count, yeah? One, two,  _ three.” _

It’s  _ heavy;  _ even with three of them lifting it, Azu can feel her muscles screaming out with the effort it’s taking. She has no idea what it must be made out of, and wonders if there could be a magical effect keeping it weighed down. But they  _ do  _ eventually move it, carefully avoiding fingers and toes as they set in down, and then all of them crowd around the opening in the floor. It’s dark - a tunnel, and one that stretches on forever. It looks level enough - Azu thinks it must have been a natural tunnel running underneath the institute - and it only leads in one direction - away from them. Toward what, she has no idea, but… it must lead  _ somewhere  _ helpful.

“We’re going to have to go down,” Zolf announces. “I don’t think there’s anything useful up here.”

Azu gives a quiet whimper as she looks down into it. There’s nearly no light down there; the tunnel is wide enough that she won’t have to stoop, but narrow enough that if she stretches her arms out to the side, she’ll be brushing against the wall.

“How long do you think the tunnel goes for?” she asks, and she’s trying to hide the tremor in her voice, but based on how sympathetically Hamid looks at her, she doesn’t think she’s succeeded. “If you had to guess, of course.”

Zolf looks down at it for a second, tilting his head this way and that, considering. “No idea,” he eventually says, a bit bluntly. “Gonna be a problem?” 

Azu shakes her head. Zolf sounds almost carefully neutral, but there’s a cautious edge to his voice, and when she looks up at him, she can see what might be worry in his own eyes, as well.

“I can do it,” she says, mouth pressing together, and Zolf gives her a short nod. And she  _ can,  _ she knows that, but…. well, it’s going to be a bit of hell to get to that point. 

Even just  _ looking  _ at it, she hates it. Hates how tight the tunnel is going to be, hates how her body is  _ already  _ stressed at the idea, hates how she can’t push it  _ aside,  _ even all these years later. Even just looking at the tunnel makes her feel like the walls are closing in around her, like she can’t breathe, and she closes her eyes, pushing it all down until she feels a bit steadier. 

“Azu?” Hamid asks, coming up next to her. “Are you sure you want to go? I know this is your… worst nightmare, really.” He’s speaking quietly so that no one else will be able to hear him, and Azu appreciates it but she rather thinks that the camel’s out of the pants, at this point.

“I’m going,” she says, in a voice that brooks no argument. She is - nothing will stop her now. There are people she needs to protect, and she isn’t going to leave them now. Not when they need her most. A tunnel isn’t going to get in the way of that. 

“We’ll go together,” Hamid says, giving her a soft grin, and Azu swallows heavily. She nods, again, and then bows her head and closes her eyes as she sends a prayer up to Aphrodite, asking her to bless and protect all of them. A breeze brushes across her cheek, and her eyes flutter open as she notices a faint smell of roses in the air. She looks at the tunnel, where Zolf and Feryn have already disappeared. Sasha and Grizzop are climbing in now, and then it’s Azu’s turn.

Hamid slips his hand into hers and squeezes. Together, with Azu’s heart beating a mile a minute, they descend into the darkness. 

—

The tunnel is long and  _ much _ smaller than Zolf would like; he has too many nightmares about the mining accident that took his leg, that almost killed Feryn, for him to be completely comfortable here. Azu looks on the edge of shaking out of her own skin, mouth pressed together into a determined line as she stares straight ahead, knuckles white where they grip her ax. Grizzop doesn’t look best pleased either, arrow loosely nocked in his bow as every far-off rumble of rock, every drip of water, causes his shoulders to tense up. 

Zolf keeps switching his hatchet back and forth between his hands, feeling the nervous energy as it just sits, waiting, in the pit of his stomach. They’re moving ahead slowly - they can’t do much else other than that, really, considering how dark it is down here. Feryn’s leading the pack, far enough in front of Zolf that he can only just make out his figure in the darkness. The tunnel is narrow, but high - they have to continue moving nearly single file if they don’t want to end up brushing against the wall, but at least Azu isn't having to duck. 

Feryn stumbles over a rock at one point, Hamid makes a little yelp at the sound of something far off in the distance, Azu accidentally runs into the wall with her armor, and even Zolf drops his hatchet, clattering onto the floor. Every noise makes Sasha look more and more irritated, until Zolf can practically feel it coming off of her in waves, and drops back until they’re shoulder to shoulder.

“Sasha. It’s fine,” Zolf says, resting a hand on her arm and feeling how tense she is. “It isn’t echoing much, they still won’t know we’re coming. It’s okay.”

“I just think we should be a little  _ quieter,”  _ Sasha says, glancing from left to right. She already seems more comfortable here, in the small enclosed space, than she had been out in the open streets of Cairo, but her guard is still up.

“We’re doing our best, Sasha,” Zolf says, and Sasha doesn’t look pleased but she does look like she  _ understands _ , even as she mutters something about armor and clanging that Zolf can’t make out. 

It goes like this for a few moments until they turn a corner, and spot a few pinpricks of light up ahead; as they get closer, Zolf realises that they’re torches in braziers, and he sticks his hatchet into the belt around his waist as he reaches up and pulls two of the torches out. They have no idea what the rest of he place looks like 

“Here, Sasha,” Zolf says, and hands one of the torches to her. He already knows the answer, but he asks anyway. “Lead or rear?” 

She takes the torch and lights it with a piece of flint, transferring her dagger to her other hand. “You go ahead,” she says, not looking directly at him. Her head is on a swivel, has been since they’d entered the tunnel, and Zolf knows she wants to hang back in case something sneaks up on them from behind - mainly because Sasha  _ doesn’t  _ get snuck up on. Ever. 

“Right,” Zolf says, exchanging a look with Feryn. “Let’s go.”

They set off again, finally with some light in front of them, and Azu seems to relax marginally now that they aren't moving along in the darkness. 

“Azu? Are you all right?” he hears Hamid ask, quietly. 

“Yes - it’s better now,” she murmurs back, but Zolf can still hear, walking a few steps ahead of her.

“Don’t like the underground either?” Grizzop asks, and Azu must nod or something, because Grizzop replies with a quiet, “Me neither.”

“It’s just… so small and dark. And enclosed. There’s not an easy way to get out, if something were to  _ happen _ , and -“

“Azu,  _ breathe _ ,” Grizzop says, sounding concerned. “You can’t think about the what-ifs, okay? Just breathe deeply, in through the nose, out through the mouth, and focus on the destination. Don’t think about anything else. Ignore where we are.”

“I’ll… try,” Azu says. 

“If you need to close your eyes, I can lead you. Hamid can help,” Grizzop offers, and Zolf doesn’t have to imagine Hamid nodding quickly at that. “If it would make you feel better.”

“No, no, I -“ Azu lets out a strained breath. “I just need to keep walking. Thank you, Grizzop.”

“Anytime.”

“Okay,” Azu whispers, to herself rather than to anyone else, and she doesn’t sound calmer, per say, but some of the stress in her voice is missing, so Zolf will count that as a win for Grizzop. 

They keep walking, and Zolf thinks the tunnel must be magical, to stretch on this far and still not come to anything, but just about when he thinks that, the tunnel starts to widen. 

He can hear Azu sigh in relief as they have a bit more space, and the tunnel leads up for a moment before leveling off again, and Zolf brings the party to a halt as they come up against the end of the tunnel. 

“What is it?” Grizzop asks, and Zolf tilts his head. 

“Dunno. Tunnel ends,” he explains, but something on the wall catches his eye, a glint reflecting off the flame from his torch, so Zolf lifts it up, trying to see better. “Hey, Sasha, help?” 

Sasha joins him, holding hers up as well. It’s a door. An ornate door, sure, but still a door, and it looks… well, it looks massive. Mithril and marble seem to be inlaid on the door, and Zolf gives it an experimental push, getting nowhere.

“Zolf,” Sasha says, and points. “Here. Think this might help.”

He looks where she’s pointing. There are two depressions in the shape of handprints on the door, instead of a doorknob. He glances down at his own hand, covered with a glove, and then turns around.

“Hamid, come here,” he says, and Hamid comes up to stand next to him, looking at him curiously. “We need to touch the door. To open it.”

Hamid looks… not scared, really, but apprehensive. “Are you sure?” he asks, wringing his hands, and Zolf nods. Hamid doesn’t look completely convinced, but he does look like he trusts Zolf, so he swallows heavily and steps forward. 

Zolf hands the torch over to Feryn for a moment, and then pulls one of his gloves off while Hamid does the same. “Okay, on my count, yeah?” 

Hamid nods, and Zolf counts down, both of them pressing their hands to the depressions at the same time. 

The door creaks and rumbles, and Zolf and Hamid pull their hands away. Hamid scrambles to get his glove back on, and Zolf does the same, stepping back and pulling Hamid with him as the door slowly swings outward. 

They enter into a cavern, large and empty, and lit by some sort of bioluminescent thing that hasn’t been anywhere else in the tunnels; it must have been brought here on purpose. It’s  _ huge  _ as well; Zolf didn’t think they’d descended that far below the library, so this is either magic or it’s brushing right up against the soil above. There’s another door, as well, open and revealing a staircase that leads straight up, somewhere. 

“Look at  _ this,” _ he hears Feryn say from behind him, and turns. 

There’s a mural stretching along the entire wall, so large that it stretches all the way up to the ceiling. There’s an ouroboros as the border, a golden snake that twines around the entire mural, larger than life. The mural itself is split in half, one side done up in dark paint and stone, with phoenixes flying overhead, trees growing in the distance. There is a person standing there, so chipped and broken that Zolf can barely make them out, holding an ankh and face-to-face with the person on the other side of the mural. The other side is the complete opposite, light paint and lighter stone, and the person looks almost peaceful, even as multiple bodies lie in their wake as a fire burns in the background. They’re holding a skull in their hand, and walking through what Zolf thinks is a patch of lilies, gray and dying. Both of the people depicted in the mural have hands that are touching in the center, fingers pressing together. 

“Well, that’s clear,” Zolf says drily, and Sasha chuckles next to him. Whoever the sculptor was, they sure loved their little symbolism.

Hamid comes up and stands beside him, tilting his head as he glances up at the mural.

“Is that supposed to be… us?” he asks, and Zolf shrugs. 

“Some version of us, maybe. A mural about the powers we have,” he explains, and Hamid looks uncomfortable, gazing at the lighter side of the mural. Zolf reaches down and grabs his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Hey. That’s not you. It won’t ever be you.”

Hamid gives him a weak smile. “I know. It’s still… jarring to see it, like that. To think that I ever  _ could  _ have been… this.”

Zolf just squeezes his hand again, not really sure what else to say, and Hamid takes a deep breath, leaning against his side. 

“We should search,” Grizzop says eventually, glancing around the room. “There might be clues on all of this somewhere.”

Everyone seems to agree, spreading out through the room as they search. Zolf and Hamid take one side, with Feryn, Azu, Grizzop, and Sasha investigating the rest. 

Even with how cavernous the room is, it becomes clear pretty quickly that there’s not actually anything of use to them there. It’s just… empty, apart from the mural sitting on the wall. 

“What are we supposed to do?” Zolf asks, more than a little frustrated, looking around at all of them. 

“ _ Hello _ ,” Zolf hears, and freezes as the stone around them rumbles. The voice echoes around the room, magically amplified, and Zolf moves to stand in front of Hamid, axe drawn and ready in his grasp. Hamid lays a hand on his arm and nudges Zolf to the side, coming to stand next to him. Zolf doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t argue, eyes scanning the cavern to find where the voice is coming from. He glances up and finally spots the speaker, standing on a small rock outcropping about ten metres above the ground. 

“Who the hell are you?” Grizzop asks, and Zolf feels his stomach drop when the man smiles, looking completely unconcerned to see any of them there. 

“You may call me Kafka,” he says, as magnanimous as anything, and Zolf’s grip tightens on his axe. 

“He asked who the hell you were!” he shouts, and the man - Kafka - looks down on them with an almost… endearing smile, if not for the way his eyes linger on Hamid. Zolf wants to step in front of him again, to put himself in between Hamid and Kafka, but Hamid’s the one who chose to stand at his side, and he isn’t going to disrespect his wishes now. 

“I told you. My name is Kafka,” he says, and he definitely has a smirk on his face, now. 

“Why are you here, then?” Azu calls, and Zolf stares up at him, challenging. 

“I wanted to be the first one to greet the saviour,” Kafka says, and Hamid takes a step back, looking disgusted. “Where are the ones with power over life and death?” 

No one speaks, everyone just staring up at the outcropping he’s stood on, and Kafka’s gaze passes over all of them until it comes to a stop on Hamid and Zolf, recognition and understanding flickering across his face.

“Gloves,” Kafka says, almost a sneer, and Zolf swears under his breath. “You… hide from your power?”

“We don’t  _ want it,”  _ Hamid says through his teeth, and Zolf nods at his side. 

“You don’t want your  _ power? _ ” Kafka sounds confused by the revelation, and almost  _ lost  _ by it, and shakes his head. “I can't imagine having all that power and… decrying it. Letting it sit, going to waste,  _ unused.” _

“What do you  _ want  _ from me?” Hamid cries, and steps forward. 

“This has been foretold through the ages,” Kafka says, and spreads his hands wide, indicating the mural. “You are the one who will lead us to the better world, the one that we have envisioned for so long.

“This cavern is a magical place,” Kafka explains. “The mural on the wall is proof enough of that. Capable of giving power, capable of taking it away. Capable of  _ strengthening  _ your power, to where you’ll only need to  _ think  _ about what you want to do and it will  _ happen. _ We  _ want  _ you to come into your own and take the power for  _ yourself.” _

Zolf catches the ‘taking it away’ even if no one else does, but he’s not sure if Kafka meant to let that particular tidbit slip, and he doesn’t want to ask. 

“You can even steal  _ his  _ power,” Kafka continues, and his voice is so calming, so… unobtrusive, that Zolf can see why he’s convinced so many people to follow his cause. 

“I don’t  _ want  _ that!” Hamid says again, and takes another step forward. “I have no interest in ending the world and I have no  _ interest  _ in working with  _ any of you,  _ Mr. Kafka!”

“You think we want to  _ end  _ the world?” Kafka says, and shakes his head. “We don’t want to end the world. We want to live in the world  _ you’ve _ created. For  _ us.” _

“ _ Nothing  _ you say will make me help you,” Hamid says, derision and disgust clear in his voice, and Kafka sighs. 

“That’s a shame. You shouldn’t have come here if you weren’t willing to lead us,” Kafka says, and his voice echoes around the room as he shakes his head, almost looking  _ sad _ . “I didn’t want to have to do this. We could have all worked together, peacefully. For a  _ new  _ world. A  _ better  _ world. Where no one is  _ weak,  _ anymore.”

“We would  _ never  _ work with you,” Hamid says, and Kafka just stares down at him with something close to pity in his eyes. 

“I’m afraid you may not have a choice, after this,” he says, and then snaps. It’s too loud for such a simple movement, and Zolf claps his hands over his ears as everyone else does the same, dropping to their knees as it nearly deafens them. He can feel his pulse speeding up, feel his blood starting to rush just from the sound, and he squeezes his eyes shut, shaking off the feeling as he rises unsteadily to his feet. 

One by one, cultists start appearing throughout the room, magically teleporting in there and surrounding all of them. They all end up separated; Hamid and Zolf are together, surrounded by a circle of them, and Zolf thinks he can see Sasha and Grizzop standing back to back while Azu and Feryn are completely alone. 

“Kill them all,” Kafka says, dismissive, and then points at Hamid. “Except him.”

The cultists move before Zolf even has a chance to swear and block their attack, and he gets a nasty cut on his forearm when he doesn’t move in time. He growls in pain, thankful that they hit his non-dominant arm, and gets ready for the fight of his life. 

Hamid starts shooting, crossbow out and a determined look on his face. It’s only been a few days, but it’s such a far cry from how terrified he’d looked during the fight in Cairo that Zolf feels a spark of pride in his chest. 

A dangerous distraction, though, as another scythe nearly scrapes his chest, just missing flaying away a layer of skin. Zolf shouts in anger and charges, catching them on the side of the head with the flat of his hatchet; they crumple and hit the ground hard, unmoving. 

“Why don’t you use your powers?” Zolf hears from up high, and glances up at Kafka for a split second, only to notice how his gaze is laser-focused on Hamid. “You could end all of them, if you wanted. With nothing more than a  _ touch.” _

Zolf kicks another cultist in the side and they stumble back; he takes the opening to look at Hamid, at how his face blanches, but it quickly turns to disgust. 

“I’ll never use this to hurt people!” he challenges, and Kafka looks almost…  _ disappointed.  _

“We’ll see about that,” Kafka says, ominous, and Zolf swears under his breath as he deflects another attack. 

It’s a brutal fight; Zolf isn’t able to see any of the others, although he gets a few glimpses in between the waves of cultists that they’re all fending off. It’s like they’re never-ending, always more appearing even after they’ve taken down the ones immediately around them.

He shoves another cultist back but loses his grip on his hatchet, misjudging the swing and missing, leaving himself open. 

“Duck!” Hamid cries, and Zolf does immediately, dropping to the floor as a crossbow bolt shoots over his head. Its aim is true, connecting solidly with the cultist’s stomach, and they fall to the ground, clutching at their midsection. 

“Good one, Hamid!” Zolf calls, and then he’s grabbing the scythe from the downed cultist and throwing it at another. It hits, buried deep in their dominant arm, and they sink to their knees, crying out in pain. 

Zolf lunges back from another cultist’s attack, having left himself open, but they miss, and he cuts across their chest with his ax. A spurt of blood shoots out, spilling onto the ground, and he takes advantage of their distraction to take another swing, knocking them to the floor. 

“Look out!” he hears, and whips around to see another cultist advancing on him, quicker than Zolf can react. They don’t get close enough to hurt him, though; Hamid shoots him with his crossbow, getting him right between his shoulder and collarbone as the cultist falls, shouting in pain. He goes to reload his crossbow and then looks at Zolf in a panic. 

“I’m all out!” he cries, and Zolf reaches out and pulls Hamid behind himself, protecting him. He swings at one of the cultists again, catching them on the shoulder, and they go down too. 

The tide starts to turn, even as Hamid stays behind Zolf, out of bolts. Zolf knocks one of them back and they fall, crumpling to the ground. He can finally see Feryn and Azu again, bodies of cultists sprawled in a circle around them, and more are coming but they’ll be easily handled. He chances a glance toward Sasha and Grizzop, where the situation is mostly the same - Grizzop is laughing, filling them full of arrows while Sasha flips around them, stabbing anywhere she can reach. 

They might win. Outnumbered, exhausted, they might  _ actually  _ win. 

“You’re going to lose!” Hamid shouts up at him, and Zolf smacks the flat of his hatchet against another cultist’s head as they go down. He takes a moment to look back before another cultist can come up on them, but then he glances around and realises he and Hamid have been left mostly alone in the center of the room. 

An anxious energy runs through his veins, instinctively knowing something is wrong, and he looks up at Kafka. He smiles down at them and raises a single hand; Zolf flinches when he snaps, expecting to be hit with something, but there’s nothing more than a brush against his side. He opens his eyes and glances around, everyone else looks untouched, and he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up inside him.

“Thought you’d be better than that!” he challenges, but. But. Kafka is still smiling, and there’s a dangerous curve to the twist of his lips as he looks, ever so slightly, to Zolf’s left. 

Zolf’s blood runs cold.

Hamid is standing completely still at his side, unmoving, as he stares straight ahead. It’s unnatural, how frozen he is, and then he breathes. It’s shuddering,  _ gasping, _ and Zolf can see him struggling, straining,  _ trembling. _

“Hamid,” Zolf whispers, reaching out an unsteady hand to touch his arm, and he’s mere millimetres away when Hamid flinches, a full-body motion as he stumbles backwards and falls to his knees, hands clutching at the ground below. “What-“

Hamid breathes again, and then he looks up, and his face is blank. Zolf takes a step back. 

“Hamid?” he says, and Hamid rises, almost too fluid with the motions as he stares ahead, nothing in his eyes. “Hey. Hamid, what did -“

Hamid’s hands light up with flame, and Zolf flinches, arm coming up to cover his face instinctively. When it drops away, Hamid’s gloves are in ashes on the ground, and Zolf’s heart sinks. 

Kafka’s voice, louder than anything Zolf’s ever heard, booms across the chamber, echoing off of the walls and inside his skull. He clutches at his head and falls to his knees; across the chamber, Feryn and Sasha do the same, Grizzop and Azu still out of eyesight. “Kill them all,” he says, and the words are echoed on Hamid’s lips. 

Hamid takes a step forward, head tilting to the side as he looks at Zolf, and Zolf raises, instinctively taking a step back. 

“Shite,” he breathes out, swearing, and his axe falls from his grasp and clatters onto the floor below.

“Zolf!” he hears Feryn yell, and holds a hand up to stop him. 

“No - focus on the fight!” Zolf yells when Feryn starts to run toward him. “I can do this! Just - just find a way to take down Kafka!” 

Feryn nods, tightly, and narrowly dodges an arrow as it hits where his head had just been. Zolf tears his gaze away from the fight and looks back at Hamid, who has that  _ awful _ blank gaze on his face.

“Hamid… Hamid, please,  _ please,  _ you have to fight him off, you  _ have  _ to fight it,” Zolf begs, moving so that his hand is between him and Hamid, a barrier that he knows won’t really do anything. Hamid doesn’t seem to hear him, eyes cloudy and  _ blank _ , and this more than anything else terrifies Zolf; there’s no hint of the Hamid he knows in those eyes, no hope, no kindness, just an empty blank canvas. 

“I don’t want to fight,” Hamid says, and it’s  _ dead  _ and  _ empty  _ and Zolf’s skin crawls when he hears it. “It’s easier not to.”

Zolf swears at that, taking another step back. All of the cultists are ignoring the two of them, a weird peace in the middle of all of the chaos, but he can hear the combat happening all around them, can hear metal hitting metal, cries of pain, shouts of frustration… but in front of him is only Hamid, advancing slowly toward him. 

“You  _ have  _ to fight him, okay? Push him out of your head! Fight  _ back!”  _ Zolf says, and for a moment he  _ swears  _ he sees a flicker of something in Hamid’s eyes, a second of the real Hamid shining through, but it’s gone before he can be sure.

“My dear,  _ stupid _ boy,” Kafka says, and his laugh echoes, insidious as a worm as it burrows into Zolf’s brain, but he doesn’t falter this time. “Did you really think you were the hero of the story? That you would  _ win?”  _ He laughs again, and the sound comes out of Hamid’s mouth, discordant and  _ wrong _ and completely at odds with his completely blank, dead eyes. “Don’t make me  _ laugh.” _

“Hamid. Don’t  _ listen  _ to him, whatever he’s telling you, however he’s controlling you, snap out of it!” Zolf yells, eyes only on Hamid even as Kafka laughs. “You don’t want to hurt people!”

“You don’t know what I want,” Hamid says, and it’s  _ empty  _ and devoid of  _ anything _ and he still walks forward as Zolf takes another step back. His back presses against the wall, but Hamid still advances, little licks of fire crackling around his fingers as he stares straight ahead, unseeing. 

“Hamid,  _ please,”  _ Zolf begs, and off to the side, he hears Azu scream in pain. His head whips over to look and, slowly, Hamid follows the motion. There’s another flicker, then, a small gasp of hurt coming from Hamid, and Zolf’s head snaps back to look at him. For a second, there’s recognition in Hamid’s gaze, and his fingers twitch and shake. 

“Azu?” he whispers, and it’s like he’s fighting with everything he has as his gaze looks like it’s forcibly pulled away, as though he’s nothing but a marionette. His eyes lock on Zolf’s again, and any moment of breaking through is erased. He takes another step, and Zolf’s back hits a wall. There’s nowhere else for him to go, now. Hamid steps closer.

“It’s me,” Zolf begs, but Hamid doesn’t say anything. “It’s  _ us _ , Hamid.  _ Please.” _

Hamid takes one more step before halting in place, shaking. His hand is still outstretched toward Zolf, and the heat from the fire dancing around his fingertips is making Zolf’s skin burn. He winces, but doesn't move, staring desperately at Hamid, and then Hamid groans, eyes fluttering before he looks  _ at  _ Zolf, truly seeing him.

“Z - Zolf,” he grinds out, teeth clenched, and Zolf nods, encouraging. 

He’s  _ fighting,  _ he’s fighting back, and Zolf takes a step forward this time, ducking his head to catch Hamid’s gaze again. “You can do this, Hamid, okay? Keep fighting.”

Kafka laughs, above them. “It’s such a shame. He’s too  _ weak _ to use his gifts to their full potential.”

“He’s  _ not  _ weak!” Zolf shouts, and keeps his eyes on Hamid, who’s shaking with effort. 

“Please -“ Hamid breathes out, voice strained from how hard he’s pushing back against Kafka’s influence.

“Yes, Hamid, you can do it,  _ keep fighting,”  _ Zolf encourages, and Hamid’s face twists in effort as he breathes heavily. The light in his eyes returns for a moment and a thin vein of hope pierces through Zolf’s chest.

“ _ Listen to me!” _ Kafka’s voice booms throughout the room again, an oppressive force that nearly makes Zolf fall to his knees. He doesn’t, hand falling to his side as he tries to get through to Hamid. He takes another step forward, even closer to Hamid’s outstretched hand.

“Hamid. Please. You don’t have to listen to him. You don’t want to hurt me. You don’t want to hurt  _ us _ ,” he says, and he can swear he sees a flicker of  _ something _ in Hamid’s eyes, a momentary break. 

Kafka snarls, amplified as it echos around the cavern, and Hamid’s arm shakes as he stares, unseeing, at Zolf. 

“N-no,” he gasps out through gritted teeth, and the hope in Zolf’s chest spikes again as he takes another step toward Hamid, whose entire body is shaking violently. Zolf nods, breath coming quickly as he silently prays that Hamid can beat this, that he can overcome the hold Kafka has on his mind. 

“Go on, Hamid,” he whispers, so that only Hamid can hear him, but it’s quickly drowned out.

“ _ Kill them!”  _ Kafka shouts, again, and Hamid’s eyes squeeze shut as his shaking hands come up to grab at either side of his head, knuckles white as he pulls at his hair. 

“Hamid…  _ please,”  _ Zolf says, and Hamid stumbles back, legs shaking so violently Zolf is almost shocked he doesn’t fall. Zolf presses in, presses  _ closer,  _ because he can see how thin the thread is, and Hamid just needs one more  _ push.  _

“I trust you,” Zolf says, and Hamid’s fingers are nearly brushing against Zolf’s chest, now, close enough that if Zolf takes another step, they’ll connect. “I  _ trust  _ you.”

Hamid makes an  _ agonised  _ sound and his fingers clench, wrapping into a fist, close to Zolf’s chest. There are tears falling down his face from the effort, but he’s still looking at Zolf, and finally,  _ finally,  _ Zolf can see _ Hamid _ instead of that terrible blankness.

Kafka’s face twists into something ugly and furious as he points a damning finger down at where Hamid is fighting against his influence. “I said,  _ kill -“ _

“No!” Hamid  _ roars,  _ and a jet of bright red fire comes streaming out of his mouth and his palms as he looks toward the sky. The fire streaks through the air, curling and licking at the walls even as it bends around all of them. Zolf can feel the heat on his skin but it doesn’t even come close enough to hurt. All around him, the fire engulfs the cultists who they’ve all been fighting, sending them crashing to the ground, screaming in pain. 

And then, as soon as it started, it’s over - the room is terrifyingly silent for a moment as the fire vanishes, with Zolf standing there in cautious hope. He glances up toward Kafka, but doesn’t see the man at all, and glances around to see everyone else looking just as confused as he is.

“Z - Zolf…” Hamid’s voice is weak and exhausted, and Zolf looks back, locking eyes with him. He looks at Zolf, tears streaming down his face, and Zolf moves toward him as quickly as he can with the prosthetic. 

Hamid collapses to the ground on shaky knees as he wraps his arms around himself, covering his hands. “I - I -“

Zolf’s next to him in an instant, hands on Hamid’s shoulders as he pulls him into his chest. “Gods,  _ Hamid,  _ you’re okay, you’re back, I didn’t -“

“Did we - did I do it?” Hamid whispers into Zolf’s neck, as warm as a furnace. His lips brush against Zolf’s skin, there, breath sending shivers down his skin, and Zolf just takes a moment to hold him there, to  _ feel  _ Hamid, alive and safe and  _ himself. _

“Yeah, Hamid, yeah,” Zolf whispers. His hand comes up and wraps around the back of Hamid’s neck, holding them close together as Hamid slumps further into him, drained.

“I’m - I’m so sorry, Zolf,” Hamid chokes out, voice thick with tears. “I didn’t - I couldn’t -“

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Zolf soothes, running his hand up and down Hamid’s back. “You beat it. Beat him.”

Hamid coughs, but he smiles weakly as he looks up at Zolf. “I didn’t hurt any of you,” he says, and Zolf shakes his head. 

“The opposite, actually,” Zolf says, and he knows he’s crying too, but he doesn’t care, not when Hamid is staring up at him like that. “You saved us all, Hamid.”

“Good,” Hamid says, forehead pressing against Zolf’s jaw.

They sit like that for a moment, just breathing together, but eventually Hamid leans back, arms still wrapped around himself. He still looks half out of it, still looks weak, almost like he isn’t all there, but there’s no traces of the compulsion hanging over him. His gaze bounces around the room, struggling to focus. “My - my pocket.”

Zolf pauses with his hand above Hamid’s pocket, waiting for him to nod before digging around and coming up with another pair of gloves. These are significantly older than the ones Hamid had been wearing, more ratty and worn even though they still feel expensive. “These?” Zolf says, and Hamid nods, careful to keep his hands away from Zolf. He only makes contact with the gloves as Zolf holds them out to him, and stumbles through putting them on. Eventually they’re snug and secure, and Zolf holds Hamid’s now-covered hands in his own as he notices them begin to shake.

“Better?” he asks, quiet, and Hamid nods, still a bit bleary. Zolf rests his hand against Hamid’s cheek, thumb brushing against his skin, and Hamid leans into the touch, smiling softly. 

“Yes,” he whispers, throat still sounding raw. His hand comes up to cover Zolf’s, fingers tangling together. “Thank you.”

“Well, isn’t this  _ touching _ ,” a sneering voice says, and Zolf looks up to see Kafka smirking down on them from the pedestal. He’s formed a shield around himself, even as the flames slowly die out on either side of him. He stands on the edge of the landing, and drops the shield as the fire completely goes out. Zolf helps Hamid to his feet, arm wrapped around his waist even as he stares defiantly up at Kafka. 

“You’ve  _ lost,”  _ Azu calls, from somewhere off to the side of them, and her voice is strong and  _ proud. _

“I will  _ never  _ hurt people on your behalf,” Hamid adds, and Zolf’s arm tightens on his waist when he stumbles a bit, but Hamid doesn’t fall, just glares up at him. “ _ Never _ .”

“You  _ will  _ bow to my -“ Kafka cuts himself off as a dull, wet  _ thunk _ echoes around the cavern, and then a stream of blood trickles down from his mouth as he tries in vain to turn around. There’s another slick sliding sound, and then Kafka stumbles forward, toppling off of the platform and crashing to the ground below with a sickening crunch. 

Feryn appears on the edge of the platform where Kafka had been, Grizzop at his side, and looks down at Kafka’s crumpled body on the stone floor below. “ _ Gods _ , he just wouldn’t shut up, would he?” 

Zolf can’t help it - after a moment of just… absolutely stunned silence, he laughs and laughs, out of pure relief. Hamid laughs too, and he wraps his arms around Zolf and pulls him into a tight hug. He buries his head into Zolf’s neck, curls tickling his neck, and Zolf can feel his smile against his skin. His arms wind around Hamid’s shoulders, just…  _ holding  _ on, tightly, feeling the adrenaline slowly bleeding out of his veins. They seperate soon enough, but Zolf doesn’t let Hamid go far. 

Azu is carefully supporting Sasha off to the side, arm wrapped around her shoulders. Sasha’s got a few nasty gashes on her arms and stomach, but she gives Zolf a thumbs up when he looks over. He sighs in relief, and then helps Hamid over to them. Azu and Zolf trade, Sasha leaning heavily on Zolf while he pulls her into a tight hug and Azu dropping to her knees to do the same with Hamid. 

“You alright?” Zolf asks, mindful of the few cuts Sasha’s got, and she wraps her one good arm around him as she hugs him back. 

“‘Course, boss,” she says. “Had worse.” 

Feryn and Grizzop join them on the floor, having climbed down from the platform, and Feryn cheers as he pulls Zolf into a tight hug, lifting him slightly off the ground. 

“Good riddance!” he cheers, and Zolf rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t really mean it. He drops Zolf back on his feet and they all crowd together.

They all stand there together, in a circle, everyone realising that they’ve really done it. There’s just - it’s all relief, and they’re all smiling, and Zolf can’t help but be so proud of all of them. So grateful that they decided that this was worth doing.

He’s a bit lost in the feeling when Hamid’s hand slip into his, fingers tangling together. Zolf turns to look at him, and he looks exhausted but so  _ happy,  _ looking around at their friends. He leans over and presses a soft kiss to the side of Hamid’s head, just resting there for a bit, and Hamid smiles, turning to him and pulling Zolf close. 

“We did it,” Hamid breathes, forehead pressing against Zolf’s as his arms wrap around his neck. His fingers tangle in Zolf’s hair as he pulls them closer together, and his laugh is soft and relieved, breath brushing against Zolf’s lips. “ _ We did it.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (atla spoilers) yk that scene at the end where ozai is beat and all the kids rock up and just start dunking on him? yeah. that’s what i had in mind at the end ngl. more villains deserve to have comedic ends that show how unimportant they really are
> 
> anyways!! only one or two more chapters to go, depends on if i do an epilogue or not!! thank u all for reading it this far i really appreciate it


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [hamid voice] ~magic~  
my writing is literally just a mishmash of scenes i like from a variety of movies and tv shows and books and webcomics all strung together into a single questionably cohesive thread.
> 
> anyway this is the first long thing i’ve written in Literal Years that is like. 90% my own plot !! very excited!!!!

They won.

It’s as simple as that. Hamid is still clinging onto Zolf, holding him as close as he can, for as long as he’s able. He… helps  _ ground  _ Hamid, in a way. 

Hamid still feels wrong. Like a stranger in his own skin, from whatever Kafka did to him. He can still remember the way his voice brushed through his mind, whispering soft suggestions to him that he had no willpower to disobey. Kafka’s voice crept along his veins, turning Hamid into nothing more than a puppet in his own skin. Zolf had brought him back, though - Zolf, and all of Hamid’s friends, helping Hamid break through the fog in his own mind. 

It will be a while before Hamid forgets how that felt. If he ever does. But for now, Zolf and the rest of his friends are  _ here,  _ and Hamid feels safe, bracketed on either side by Azu and Zolf. Zolf’s arm is wrapped around his shoulders, and Azu has taken his hand in hers and won’t let go. 

“Are you all right, Azu?” Hamid asks, while Feryn pulls Zolf aside for a conversation, clapping him around the neck and dragging him away, albeit with a worried look. 

Azu gives him a weak grin, but crouches down and pulls him into another tight hug. “I should be asking you that, I think,” she says, and Hamid can hear the tension in her voice even though she’s trying to hide it. 

Hamid hugs her back, arms around her neck, and feels comforted just by her presence. “I’ll be fine, honest,” he says, tucking his head into her neck. Azu lets out a relieved sigh and leans back, leaving her hands resting on Hamid’s shoulders. 

“When you had been compelled,” Azu says, and the fear is there in her voice even though she can see Hamid standing there in front of her, safe and sound, “I was so afraid. I couldn’t get to you, or help you, and I didn’t know if you would be alright.”

“Oh,  _ Azu,” _ Hamid says, heart melting as he reaches up and gently places his hands on her wrists. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“No, don’t -“ she shakes her head, looking distressed. “It wasn’t your fault, please don’t apologise.”

“Azu, I know you, and I know you would have done whatever you could if you could have gotten to me,” Hamid says, pulling her into another hug. “And I’m okay! I’m right here.”

“Yes,” she says, hugging him back briefly before moving back and straightening up. “And - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make this about myself. You were the one who was compelled, after all, and I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“I am,” Hamid says, sounding a bit more confident than he feels, but Azu doesn’t seem to buy that for a second, fixing him with a knowing look. “I will be. I think I just… need some space away from it.”

“Please tell me if there’s anything you need,” Azu says, as earnest as she ever is. 

“I will, Azu. And I know you hate… this,” Hamid says, gesturing to the cavern around them for lack of a better word. He’s known about Azu’s fears about being in small, enclosed areas for a while now, especially underground, and he wishes there was something more he could do. “We’ll be out soon.”

Azu makes a quiet noise not unlike a tea kettle whistling, and she nods although she still looks uncomfortable. “I know,” she says. 

Hamid tilts his head and bites his lip. “Azu?” he says, reaching his hand out and settling it on her arm as she stands. “Thank you. For… everything, really. I know this hasn’t been easy, but I just - I really appreciate all of this, and you  _ helping  _ me, and - thank you.”

“Oh, Hamid,” Azu says, and gives him a smile. “I’d always help you.”

Hamid doesn’t - he doesn’t really know what to say to that, and his throat feels thick when he tries to speak. Instead, he just squeezes Azu’s arm and smiles up at her, a bit watery than he’d like, but if Azu notices (she  _ definitely  _ does), she doesn’t comment. 

“We should go,” Sasha says, cutting across their conversation. She glanced around the room, clearly wanting to get out there as much as Azu does. “Before anyone else shows up.”

“The stairs should lead out,” Feryn says, stepping in and glancing up. “I can see light coming from the top, so we should be able to make it out much more quickly this way.”

“Oh, thank the  _ gods _ ,” Azu mumbles. Her shoulders are still tight with tension, but the relief on her face is palpable. She follows Feryn, helping support Sasha, with Grizzop on the other side, looking worried and pretending that he actually isn’t. Hamid can spot a slight blush on Azu’s face when Sasha’s arm winds around her shoulders, and his lips quirk up into a little bit of a smirk. He hadn’t thought… well, he supposes that he shouldn’t be  _ that  _ surprised. Azu wasn’t the best at hiding her feelings, even if she didn’t  _ talk _ about them all that often. He’ll have to see if there’s something he can do (pretending he isn’t a meddler is just a waste of time, and maybe he can convince Zolf or Grizzop to help plan something out…). 

Hamid goes to leave, to follow his friends out of the cave, but feels a hand gently rest on his arm and turns back to see Zolf there, looking more awkward than normal. “Can I… can we talk?” he asks, soft in the cavernous room, and Hamid nods.

“We’ll be right out,” he calls after everyone, and Feryn and Azu give them both twin knowing looks before agreeing and shepherding Sasha and Grizzop out of the room. The door slides shut and leaves them both in near-darkness, room lit only by whatever bioluminescent thing is lining the walls. Hamid’s stomach is a mess of nerves and excitement, and it only doubles when Zolf reaches down to take his hand and pull him a little bit away from the door.

Neither of them speak for a moment; Hamid can feel the tension rolling off of Zolf, can tell that he’s trying to muster up the courage or the energy (or both) to say something. He still has hold of Hamid’s hand, hand squeezing every few seconds as though he’s trying to remind himself that Hamid is still there. 

“Zolf?” Hamid eventually prods, trying to be gentle. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I just - that is - I -“ he blows out a frustrated breath, but when he looks at Hamid, none of it is directed at him. “Sorry, I - Feryn told me once I’m not the best with the whole  _ talking  _ thing, and I get even - I dunno, even  _ worse  _ when it’s something, er, important? So.”

Hamid can feel the corner of his mouth twitch up in a sympathetic smile. “That’s okay. I - you can take your time. I’ll still be here to listen.”

“I just -“ Zolf pauses again, and drops Hamid’s hand as he starts to pace. “I know you beat it, and that it’s over, but I keep… gods, Hamid, I can’t - I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Hamid asks, going over and grabbing Zolf’s forearm in his to stop his pacing. “For what?”

“For not - not, you know,” he says, throwing his arms out to the side and, incidentally, breaking Hamid’s grip. “I should have done something. Helped you break out of it earlier. Kept you out of the line of fire.”

“Hey,” Hamid says, tone firm. “It’s not your  _ job  _ to protect me. I’m strong, and I can handle myself.”

“I  _ know  _ you can,” Zolf says. “I swear, I’m not trying to… be all protective and treat you like you’re helpless, because you’re clearly not, with all that - magic? Stuff? Whatever it is. But it was still -“

He cuts himself off, and Hamid takes the opportunity to lean closer to Zolf, resting his head against his upper arm. He can feel the tension still running through Zolf’s body, muscles tight, but after a moment, Zolf’s hand comes up, resting on the side of Hamid’s head. 

“You know, I’m fine,” he murmurs, so caught up in the feeling of Zolf’s hand moving to card gently through his hair that he forgets to tell Zolf not to muck it up. He hums, content, but opens his eyes to see Zolf giving him a disbelieving look and amends. “Okay, I’m not  _ fine,  _ but I will be. I promise.”

That must be enough for Zolf, because he sighs but doesn’t press the issue anymore. “Tell me - okay, I’m not the  _ best  _ at talking, but I’m. Here. If you want to talk. I can listen.”

Hamid turns to press a kiss to Zolf’s palm, his own version of a thank you, and then steps away as Zolf’s hand falls back to his side.

“I didn’t really get a good look at this, when we came in,” he admits, and goes over to the mural. It spans across the wall, a massive undertaking if anything, and he tilts his head as he studies it. “It’s a bit… ominous, isn’t it?” 

Zolf comes up next to him, and it doesn’t take Hamid long to realise that they’re stood on their respective sides. He doesn’t much like the thought, for some reason, but doesn’t move, instead letting his hand find Zolf’s wrist before sliding down to interlock their fingers. Zolf’s hand is warm in his, and Hamid keeps looking over the mural, eyes catching on two peculiar symbols painted at just about eye level.

“Zolf,” he says, and steps a bit closer, until he’s within arm’s reach of the thing. “Are these handprints?” 

Zolf steps with him, and looks at where Hamid’s gesturing to. “Yeah - that’s weird, actually. Didn’t notice ‘em on the first look, I guess.”

“Do you think we…?” Hamid asks, letting his thought fade off as he turns to look at Zolf, who seems to be considering the same thing.

“Feel like they’re here for a reason, yeah?” Zolf says. “Dunno what will happen if we do, but something about it…”

“Feels right?” Hamid finishes for him, and Zolf nods. 

“You feel it too, then?” Zolf asks, and Hamid turns to look at him, tearing his gaze away from the mural with more difficulty than he thinks he should have.

“Yes, I - I don’t know how to explain it,” he says, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It’s like someone is guiding him, someone  _ warm,  _ whispering that everything could be alright if he just reached out and pressed his palm against the mural. It - they - whoever or whatever it is, it doesn’t feel… evil, in the way that Kafka and the cult members had. It feels like an extension of himself, and he feels his gaze being drawn back to the mural, directly back to the handprint that almost looks like it’ll perfectly fit his hand. “I don’t know if we should be worried about that,” he laughs, but there’s an edge of tension there that he can’t completely get rid of. 

“I think… we should do it,” Zolf says, and Hamid doesn’t know why, but he feels the same, a gut instinct that curls throughout his body. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but it doesn’t feel… dunno. Bad?”

“Okay,” Hamid agrees. “Whatever it is, we can handle it together. Same time?” 

Zolf shrugs. “Best way I can think of to do it,” he says, and holds his hand up as Hamid mirrors his pose. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Hamid says, determination sterling his resolve, and their hands press against the mural in tandem as they cover the two black and white painted-on handprints. There’s a rumbling sound as the mural seems to shift,  _ warp _ almost, and dust falls from the ceiling. Behind them, there’s a high-pitched whine, and then an oppressive grating noise as two doors come out of nowhere and seal them in a smaller room. All of the light extinguishes itself as they turn around, hands still pressed to the wall, and then they’re left in darkness.

“Zolf?” Hamid calls, moving his hand to the left slightly until it bumps into Zolf’s, and then Zolf links their pinkies together. He can’t see anything in the darkness, not even the mural a few inches in front of him, much less Zolf. They’d gotten rid of the torches when the fighting had started, so they had nothing left to try and see with. “What’s happening?”

“Er - don’t know,” Zolf says, sounding tense, and he pulls Hamid a bit closer to him. “But I don’t really -“

He slowly trails off as a silver glow comes from the mural, and Hamid tilts his head as the bottom of the mural begins to twist and change. Script begins to form, and it either hadn’t been there before or they hadn’t been able to read it. He tilts his head and peers closer; it takes a moment before the script is fully-formed enough to read, for the letters to stop twisting and changing and settle into something Hamid can decipher. It almost looks like a poem, just lines of script that shimmer in the darkness. The glow is just enough that Hamid can barely make out Zolf stood next to him, but the rest of the room is still mostly just shadows.

_ “One of light, and one of dark, _

_ They ruled the land together. _

_ One of life, and one of death, _

_ Magic was their protector.  _

_ But power fades and corruption sings, _

_ They fled the land forever.  _

_ The magic followed, ever-helpful, but peace was all they asked. _

_ Palm to palm, they freed themselves at last.” _

Hamid reads it out to Zolf, and then steps forward, running his fingers along the script as silver light streams between them. 

“We can - we can get rid of it,” he breathes, squeezing Zolf’s hand. “It’s - Zolf, we can be  _ free _ of this.”

It’s something he never thought he would be able to have, a freedom that had always been so far out of reach that Hamid rarely allowed himself to imagine it could be possible. It was the sole thing that Hamid wished for when he saw a shooting star in the sky, the one thing he dreamed about at night. And now… it could be  _ real.  _

“Wait, there - more is showing up,” he says, and underneath the silver, there’s a burnished gold script, looking as though it was written in a different hand, still so similar to the one above.

“ _ Trust in each other, and your faith will be rewarded.  _

_ Trust in yourself, and let the power go.” _

He finishes reading it aloud and turns to look at Zolf, who looks just the same mix of hopeful and cautious as Hamid feels. 

“Kafka… he must have never seen this, otherwise he would have tried to destroy it. If it told you how to get rid of the power,” Hamid says, running his free hand over the script. “I - it makes a weird sort of sense, I suppose? If you consider the fact that our powers diametrically oppose one another, then it stands to reason that they would be able to neutralise each other.... I mean, the only potential guarantee is that I wouldn’t be able to hurt  _ you,  _ because your power and mine are simply opposites. If mine - mine causes  _ death,  _ and yours brings  _ life _ … they would cancel each other out, in a way? At least. I think. Or maybe that’s just completely out there, and I’m speculating based on nothing but -”

“Hamid,” Zolf says, and reaches out and catches Hamid’s wildly gesturing hand with his own as he gives him a concerned look. “Breathe.”

Hamid does, taking a deep breath. He can hear Saira’s voice in the back of his mind, counting off for him, and listens to that as he calms himself down. Zolf’s thumb rubbing reassuringly against the side of his hand helps as well, and he gives him a grateful look when he feels more centred. 

“Thank you,” he says, and Zolf gives a short nod. “I’m still… not sure what this is trying to tell us. We just have to, what, trust each other? How - I already trust you. Does that - is that all we need?” 

“I -“ Zolf starts, sounding frustrated. “Maybe? It doesn’t say  _ how  _ to do it, or anything, but. I think - look, the two in the mural were holding hands without gloves.  _ Palm to palm,  _ it said. It sounds - I dunno, unbelievable? Impossible? But. Maybe if we do the  _ same…  _ something will happen.”

Hamid wants this  _ so badly.  _ Wants to believe it’s true, that all he needs to do is touch Zolf’s hand and let  _ go,  _ but he still remembers the look on his parent’s faces when they’d explained to him what his powers  _ do,  _ can still feel the fear that creeps along with spine whenever he doesn’t have the gloves on. Can hear Kafka’s voice in his ears, telling him to  _ hurt  _ Zolf, and all the resolve that he’d had to do this comes crashing down around him, torn between a desperate belief that Zolf is right and that he can finally get rid of this curse, and the fear of hurting someone he’s come to care very deeply about. “I don’t - Zolf, I  _ can’t _ .”

“Why not?” Zolf asks, and Hamid takes a step back, away from him, arms wrapping around his midsection.

“I - I came so close to hurting you, when Kafka had control of me. I don’t want to - I  _ can’t _ hurt you with this, not  _ you,  _ not Azu, not Sasha or Grizzop or Feryn, I -“ Hamid cuts himself off as he presses his fist to his mouth. 

“Hamid, I -“ Zolf starts, looking almost sheepish, and he runs a hand through his hair as he averts his eyes. “I don’t know if this will help, but I don’t think you  _ can  _ hurt me? Really? I mean, you said it yourself. Our powers are  _ opposite.  _ They cancel each other out. I think - I dunno, I’m not really one for  _ spirituality,  _ but this doesn’t feel. Wrong.”

“I just - I don’t know if I -“ Hamid starts, and it’s not a lie, not really, because the ever-familiar fear is making itself a home in his chest again, but Zolf is looking at him with so much trust and  _ faith  _ that Hamid thinks maybe the fear doesn’t matter. 

“Here.” Zolf pulls his glove off and lets it fall to the ground, holding his hand up in front of Hamid. His hand is - well, it looks  _ lightless  _ almost, a dark silhouette that refuses any sort of illumination. The same shade as the mural.

Zolf stares at it, confused. “That’s… new,” he says, “but that must mean this is right? Maybe? It’s  _ something, _ at least.”

Hamid doesn’t know if he buys it, but when he looks down at his own hands, he can see a faint shimmering coming from where the gloves open at the wrist, a faint glow that he’s never seen before. He clutches the hope that Zolf is right in his chest and shoves it back down, because he can’t let himself be disappointed again, not when this is something he’s wanted so  _ badly  _ for years.

“Just… try?” Zolf says, hope bleeding through every line on his face, and his chest hurts with how much he  _ wants  _ this to be true. “I won’t make you. But I think - Hamid, you deserve to not have to be terrified of what you can do, anymore, and if this is what does it… we should give it a chance.”

What  _ does  _ he deserve? It’s not something Hamid’s ever considered; he’s always hated having this power, hated the crushing weight of it all that had settled around his shoulders without him even knowing. He’s always considered it unfair, even if he tried to hide his true feelings on the matter. Azu had been the first to see through it, actually, and he’s still so grateful to her for being  _ there  _ for him through all of it - through the endless attempts to cure it, the half-cocked theories he came up with into the wee hours of the night, the  _ breakdowns  _ that hit so hard and with so little warning. 

Maybe - maybe it’s not about what he deserves. Maybe, just this once, it can be about what Hamid  _ wants,  _ and, gods, what he wants more than anything is to be  _ free.  _ To be able to do Saira’s hair without the gloves getting tangled, to not constantly be second guessing himself and what he’s doing, to be able to hug Azu without being  _ terrified _ the gloves will slip. 

To press his palm against Zolf’s, without the gloves in the way, to run his hands through Zolf’s hair and feel the coarse strands against his skin.

Maybe, just this once, Hamid can trust  _ himself.  _

“Okay,” he whispers, and pulls the glove off. His hand shines in the darkness, a soft glow. It contrasts with the way Zolf’s hand seems to be untouched by the light, a dark blur even as Hamid matches his pose, hand inches away from Zolf’s. He takes a step forward before Zolf can, until they’re mere inches apart, even as Hamid doesn’t let their hands touch. 

“Trust me,” Zolf says, and it’s nothing more than a plea now. His still-gloved hand curves around Hamid’s cheek, so  _ gently _ that it makes Hamid’s chest ache. “Trust  _ yourself. _ You need to be the one to make this decision 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Hamid whispers, and Zolf leans even closer, foreheads, noses,  _ lips, _

nothing more than a hair's breadth away. 

“You won’t,” Zolf murmurs, and, gods, Hamid doesn’t know if he trusts himself  _ completely _ yet, but he trusts Zolf more than almost anything in the world, and if _ Zolf  _ believes in him, maybe it will be enough. He swallows, heavily, and then presses their hands together. They’re the first things that connect, fingers brushing together, and then Zolf’s lips are on his, and  _ oh,  _ Hamid knows what fire feels like, but this is calm, cool,  _ gentle _ , so gentle that he thinks he might cry from the warmth of it all.

And Zolf doesn’t die from touching him, so Hamid presses in closer, wrapping his free arm around Zolf’s neck and tangling their fingers together. It’s been - he’s never been able to touch someone like this, just a simple press of skin sliding against skin as their palms finally connect. Zolf’s arm wraps around his waist and pulls Hamid closer, tilting his head just right as Hamid angles his, and it’s  _ perfect.  _

Hamid’s eyes are closed as they kiss, but he can see a golden light peeking through his eyelids, spreading out into ribbons that surround them, brushing against Hamid’s hair and wrapping around the two of them. He pulls back only slightly, to watch it curve around them. Zolf looks incredulous, and Hamid can barely take his eyes off of him as the golden light plays against the planes of his face. It moves faster, then, spreading out and expanding, circling around the two of them in an ever-complicated dance. Hamid laughs, pressing his forehead against Zolf’s and lazily playing with his hands, pulling his own and then Zolf’s second glove off, pressing their fingers together until they’re inseparable. 

“You’re incredible,” Zolf whispers, staring right at Hamid, and Hamid smiles, almost feeling bashful.

“You are too,” he whispers back, and the golden circle surrounding them picks up speed, wind brushing against the two of them.

It quiets, slowing down until it’s a calm, undulating ribbon again, and then it gets closer, wrapping around Hamid’s shoulders, and then Zolf’s, before sneaking its way down their arms to where their hands meet, wrapping tightly around them. There’s a bit of heat - nothing uncomfortable, but almost feeling like two more hands set on top of theirs. The golden light shines brighter as it tangles itself between their fingers, wriggling and moving in a lazy dance, and then it dims, slowly, the golden flush sinking into their skin and leaving them in the darkness.

Hamid feels… different. The power in his hands had never felt like a physical thing, really, even when he was younger. But it feels as though something’s  _ changed,  _ something he can’t identify, and he feels free in a way he never has before. As though invisible chains wrapped around him have finally slipped off from around his shoulders; from looking at Zolf, he seems to be feeling something similar, and Hamid leans closer, nose brushing against his. 

“I told you you wouldn’t hurt me,” Zolf says, and Hamid can’t help the relieved laugh that bubbles out of him. He pulls Zolf back in and Zolf goes willingly, smiling against Hamid’s lip in a wonky kiss that never quite connects correctly, both of them grinning far too wide. 

“You had faith,” Hamid says, wonderingly, lips brushing against Zolf’s as he speaks, and then he feels a hand press against his face and opens his eyes, staring deep into Zolf’s.

“In you?” Zolf says in a voice no louder than a whisper, a voice that’s just for Hamid even though there’s no one else in sight. “Always.”

And, honestly, what else is Hamid supposed to do but kiss him again, a desperate press of lips as he rubs his thumb against Zolf’s cheek. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be over this feeling, of finally being able to touch another person without gloves on, and he revels in the chance. Zolf presses in closer, turning them until Hamid’s back is pressed against the mural. He wraps his arms around Zolf’s neck, gasping into his mouth, and lets his hand trail through Zolf’s hair, running his fingers through the strands. Zolf kisses him back, lips slotting together in a way that makes Hamid’s hand fist in Zolf’s hair, and feeling the hair against his skin for the first time is its own little miracle. The world melts away around them, and Hamid is laser-focused on the Zolf’s lips on his, on the warmth of Zolf’s hands pressing insistently into his hips. 

The doors raise, and the light comes back, and Hamid doesn’t want to break apart from Zolf for a second. So he doesn’t, ignoring everything around them, and pulls Zolf closer. One hand slips out of Zolf’s hair and Hamid presses it against his cheek, thumb stroking against Zolf’s cheek as he tilts his head more, lips slotting together. His head is spinning a bit, overwhelmed by Zolf’s arms bracketing him and the kissing and how  _ warm  _ the lines of Zolf’s body feels against his own.

It doesn’t last as long as Hamid wants it to.

“We’re going to need to go,” Zolf murmurs against Hamid’s lips, and Hamid pouts a bit when Zolf moves even that little bit away from him. “Feryn is going to come looking for us if we don’t.”

“Azu, too,” Hamid agrees, and on some level he knows Zolf is right, but that doesn’t stop him from pulling Zolf closer again, kissing him lazily as they stand there, Hamid’s back against the mural as Zolf’s hand rest easily against his hips. 

They become aware slowly of a few fists pounding against the doors that had shut behind them, and Hamid can make out a muffled Feryn and Azu shouting their names. They sound worried, but Hamid can detect a faint hint of exasperation there as well. He finally pulls away from Zolf fully, just far enough to rest their foreheads together.

“Told you,” Zolf says, and Hamid laughs, pressing another kiss to the corner of Zolf’s mouth. His lip are red from the kissing, and Hamid runs his fingers through Zolf’s hair again. “They’re going to break down the door if we’re not careful.”

Hamid is tempted for a moment to let them, not really wanting to let Zolf go, but they really  _ should  _ get out before the entire place potentially collapses around them. Plus, he knows how tense Azu has been since they entered the library; it’s not fair to stay here while she’s probably still on the verge of panicking. 

“Okay,” he says, and kisses Zolf’s jaw. “Okay.” He pushes Zolf back a bit so that he can step away from the mural, and turns back to look at it one last time. The mural is different, now. Instead of the contrast, the two figures, once exact opposites, have turned a burnished gold, and their hands are entwined, now, fingers interlocking where once they simply pressed against the other. The background has changed as well, becoming a mix of black and silver, all the rest gone. He thinks the two figures might be smiling, and Hamid feels himself smile back as he revels in the feeling of freedom that spreads across his shoulders. 

“What do you think it was?” Hamid asks, staring up at it. Zolf steps up beside him, and wraps his arm around Hamid’s shoulders. “The golden light, I mean.”

Zolf pulls Hamid a bit closer and presses a kiss to his temple. “Er. Magic, I suppose? Not sure what else it could have been, really. This isn’t my forte.”

Hamid hums, letting his eyes slip shut. It’s not his either; he’d had some studies in university, but nothing had really taught him in-depth magical theory. Still, he almost doesn’t care - he’s sure that everyone else will have questions, and Hamid has his own, but he’s a bit overwhelmed by the fact that he  _ finally  _ doesn’t have to be afraid anymore. That, somehow, he and Zolf actually found a way to be free of this. He’s happy enough with that for the time being.

“We really need to go,” Zolf says, lips brushing against Hamid’s skin, and Hamid is happy enough with  _ this  _ too. He gives himself one more moment to enjoy the feeling of Zolf’s arm wrapped around him, and then pushes himself off.

“Okay,” Hamid whispers, and pulls him away. Zolf goes willingly, letting himself be dragged away.

They leave the gloves behind them, on the floor. Neither of them need them anymore, anyway.

—

“Your, er - your powers are really gone, yeah?” Sasha asks, giving Hamid’s bare hand a suspicious glance. 

They’re on their way back to the city in search of an inn for the night, and Zolf and Hamid have been through the explanation of whatever happened down there a fair few times. It doesn’t help that neither of  _ them  _ really understand it that well; plus, there are only so many ways Hamid knows how to explain a golden light shimmering around them and the magic slipping out of their grasp. It’s not really something they can  _ replicate,  _ after all, and Hamid blushes at the idea, thinking about how Zolf’s lips felt against his and how his arms felt around his waist. 

They’re keeping most of the…  _ intimate _ moments, Hamid supposes, out of it; no one’s fooled, really, and it’s probably because Hamid  _ keeps _ blushing anytime Grizzop asks a particularly pointed question. Honestly, nothing had even  _ happened _ , really, just some kissing, and anyway, the fact that  _ Hamid isn’t going to kill everything he touches _ should be  _ much  _ bigger news than his and Zolf’s relationship status. 

Still, they keep asking for more explanations even after they’ve all climbed up out of the chamber. The climb was so much shorter than the tunnel they took to come in, and the door out leads to a spot maybe half a mile away from the library. They can still see it in the distance, and they’re much farther from the city. It’s no wonder none of them had found this while exploring earlier; regardless, though, no one’s happier to be out of the chamber than Azu is. The moment they hit fresh air, her shoulders dropped at least half of the tension that they’d been holding, and she’d  _ also  _ nearly dropped Sasha, catching her in time and apologising profusely. Sasha didn’t actually look that irritated, and Hamid could tell that she was relieved as well. Even Grizzop seemed to loosen when they were out. 

This didn’t mean the questions stop, though, even as they start to make their trek back to the city. Azu seems to have mostly accepted all of it - she mentioned that it sounded a little bit like a story she’s heard at the Aphrodite temple, and then stopped really asking about it, focusing on helping Sasha along. 

While Feryn and Grizzop keep directing questions about it at them, Hamid reaches out and grabs Zolf’s hand in his own. It still sends a shiver through his veins without the gloves there to block him; he wonders if it will ever grow old. 

“Okay,” Zolf finally says; he’s been a bit silent for the past few minutes, leaving Hamid to field their questions alone. “No, we don’t know what did it, we already told you what the mural said, we didn’t see anything else down there, and me and Hamid aren’t going to accidentally kill someone or raise the dead with our hands anymore. Right? Can we stop talking about it?”

Feryn holds his hands up non-threateningly. “Just curious, here. I’m happy as hell for you both, of course, but it’s just a bit strange to hear about. How can you be sure it’s gone?” 

Zolf rolls his eyes and gestures to his hand in Hamid’s. “Not dropping dead?” he reminds him, and Feryn shakes his head. 

“Thanks, smartarse. But you said yourself the magic cancels, yeah? How do you  _ know?”  _ Zolf looks about a second from popping at his brother, and even though Feryn seems to recognise that, he doesn’t back down.

”Feryn -“ Zolf says, and then cuts himself off as he rubs at the bridge of his nose.

“Can’t you just… I don’t know.  _ Test  _ it?” Grizzop asks, looking between the two of them with a deeply unimpressed look on his face, and both Zolf and Feryn shrug at the same time. It’s funny, almost, how similar their mannerisms are. 

“Suppose we could, at that,” Feryn concedes, and Zolf nods along. “No offense, Hamid. More comfy testing the one that won’t immediately kill me.” He genuinely does look almost regretful as he says it, and Hamid shakes his head quickly. 

“None taken, honestly,” he says. He wouldn’t be too thrilled about it either, but he knows that he and Zolf are right about this. 

“Here, if we’re wrong, this will just pep you up a bit,” Zolf says, and holds his own hand out with a shrug. Sasha looks conflicted, torn between her trust of Zolf and her distrust of the magic, so Feryn sighs and steps up, unceremoniously poking his finger into the center of Zolf’s palm. “Feel any different?”

Feryn pulls his finger back, glancing down at his palms, still scraped up even if they aren’t bleeding anymore. “I mean. No, really. Still a bit tired? Parched? Could do with a lie down, if I’m being honest.”

“There. See?” Zolf says, and shrugs. “Nothing. It’s all gone. Don’t know how, don’t know why, but you won’t find me complaining. Nice to be rid of it, honestly.”

Even with the as-good-as-done confirmation, no one moves immediately to test the same thing out with Hamid; he doesn’t blame them, of course not, but he still shrinks up a bit on himself at their silence. 

“Listen, mate, nothing against  _ you  _ or anything, I’m just not keen to die,” Grizzop says, blunt as he always is. “I’ve only got so many years as it is.”

“ _ I’ll  _ try,” Azu says as she steps forward. Hamid does his best to hide the relief that suffuses his chest, but doesn’t think he does a great job based on how Zolf squeezes his shoulder in comfort. She gives Hamid a smile. “I trust you.”

Hamid smiles back, and then Azu rests her hand on top of his, dwarfing it. Nothing happens for a moment, but the faith in Azu’s eyes never goes away, and after a second passes, she cheers, sweeping Hamid up in her arms as he wraps his own around her neck.

“You did it!” she congratulates, and Hamid beams at her. “Oh, I’m so happy for you. And you as well, Zolf. I can only imagine the relief it must feel to have that burden off of your shoulders.”

“See?” Zolf says, definitely directing it at Feryn. “All gone. Some magic shite. Sure someone else will get it better than we do.”

“Okay, okay,” Feryn concedes, and then turns around to Hamid. “Let’s do this properly, then.”

He sticks a hand out to him, and gives him a bright smile. “Sorry, Hamid. Glad you got rid of this whole mess. And if you break Zolf’s heart, I’ll be much less friendly in the future.”

Hamid hesitates for a moment as Zolf sighs and rubs his temples, but does end up reaching forward and clasping Feryn’s hands with his own. “Thank you. And, er - I really don’t have any plans to do so. I’m actually, er, quite happy.”

“Alright, then,” Feryn says, clapping his hands together and turning on his heel. “Let’s head back. Been a  _ long  _ day, I’m sure we’re all exhausted, and I could absolutely murder a giant dinner.”

Almost as if it’s on cue, Hamid’s stomach grumbles, and they all laugh. “Hamid agrees,” Azu says, gently teasing, and Hamid tosses her a scowl that he doesn’t completely mean.

“I don’t - it’s been so long since breakfast!” he tries to explain, but no one is listening, still laughing at him. He pouts a bit but can’t keep it up, and eventually he and Zolf fall behind the rest of the group as they head off toward the city. 

His hand finds Zolf’s again, fingers threading together. He smiles; they still have… lots to talk about, with respect to  _ them _ , but Hamid’s happy just to be with him, now. He leans his head against Zolf’s arm as they walk, and carefully watches how  _ gentle  _ Azu is with Sasha. He swears he can see a faint blush creeping down the back of Sasha’s neck, as well, and leans up to whisper as much into Zolf’s ear.

“I think Sasha and Azu have a crush,” he says, and Zolf clocks it even now, smile spreading across his face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sasha blush,” he whispers back, lips brushing the shell of Hamid’s ear, sending a shiver down Hamid’s spine. He’s sure  _ he’s  _ blushing too, again, but this time no one else can see it. “Think Azu will say something first?”

Hamid bites his lip and watches both of them. “If she doesn’t, I’ll eat my sock.”

“Oi! Lovebirds! Can we please get a move on?” Grizzop calls back, clearly trying to get everyone to walk a bit quicker toward the city. “Planning on getting there before dark!” 

“Fine, my gods!” Hamid calls back, and looks up at Zolf. “Ready?” he asks, not completely sure what he means, but Zolf just squeezes his hand back and nods.

“Ready.”

And, together, they set off into the sunset, hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [stares directly at the cave of two lovers from atla]
> 
> this is not a joke it took me *over an hour* to write the little script poetry prophecy thing here i am so bad with anything even slightly approaching poetry 
> 
> just one chapter left!!


	14. Chapter 14

Zolf shields his eyes as he steps off the boat; it’s a fair bit brighter here than back in London, and he’d spent most of the trip on the lower deck. The sun is harsher than he remembers it being. At his side, Sasha looks… mostly uncomfortable, decked out in all black, and he swears that there’s a drop of sweat sliding down her neck, even though she’d never admit to it. He peers out over the crowd as he walks down the ramp from the ship, looking around. 

“Zolf!” he hears, and turns to spot Hamid running past the barrier that pedestrians are supposed to stay behind as he comes right up to the gangplank. He crashes into Zolf, wrapping his arms around his neck as Zolf stumbles back, catching Hamid and holding onto him.

“Hey, Hamid,” he says, grinning widely as he hugs him tightly, head buried into his shoulder. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Hamid whispers into his neck.

It’s been a few months since they’d gotten rid of their magic in the strange chamber underneath the Library of Alexandria; it hadn’t been easy to get used to, not having to wear the gloves anymore, and Zolf still wakes up from nightmares sometimes where the powers never actually disappeared. Still, he’s glad as hell to be rid of it, and, based on Hamid’s letters that he’d been sending to Zolf while they’d both been busy with their respective lives, Hamid felt much the same. 

Zolf sets him back down on his feet but doesn’t move away, just holding him close. Hamid is the first to move back, but he doesn’t go far, cupping Zolf’s face in his as he pulls him in for a desperate kiss. 

“I’m so happy you made it,” Hamid whispers against his lips, and Zolf could agree,  _ or  _ he could pull Hamid in closer and kiss him silly, so he chooses the latter, not caring about the onlookers. 

Behind them, Sasha coughs, pointedly, and Hamid jumps away, blushing furiously. Zolf spares a moment to think about how he already misses the feel of Hamid in his arms, and then realizes how much he sounds like a damn Campbell protagonist.

“Oh! Sasha!” he exclaims, moving to hug her before thinking better of it, and Sasha nods slightly. “I’m happy you made it too!”

“Good to see you, mate,” Sasha says, and then gives Hamid a nudge with her elbow. “Don’t need the same treatment, though, I’ll just believe you missed me.”

Zolf swats her on the arm and Sasha ducks away, laughing. He shakes his head and rubs at his temples; when he looks over, Hamid is definitely trying to hide a smile, and starts doing a much better job when Zolf looks over, clearing his throat. 

Hamid coughs delicately, but Zolf can  _ feel  _ the condensed laughter coming from him and Sasha alike. “I trust the ride over wasn’t too difficult?”

“Was pretty nice, actually,” Sasha says, and Zolf snorts. “Convinced the crew to let me up into the crow’s nest, spent most of the trip up there. The stars look amazing over the ocean. Too much of a fog over the city.”

Hamid makes a sympathetic noise and Zolf pulls him into his side a bit. Hamid goes willingly, head leaning back against Zolf’s shoulder. “It’s not much better here, I’m afraid. Light pollution.”

Sasha grumbles under her breath as she crosses her arms, something Zolf can’t make out, but it doesn’t last long before she sighs and her arms drop.

“Where’s Azu?” she asks, glancing around the dock as though they’d all somehow missed a six-foot-tall paladin standing over the crowd.

“She’s busy at the temple,” Hamid explains, giving Sasha a bit of a look. She tries to brush it off, looking unconcerned, but Zolf can spot the bit of disappointment in the curve of her mouth. “She did take the rest of the day off! Your boat just got in a bit sooner than expected, so she wasn’t able to get away. We can head there now, if you’d like? She was just going to meet us at the house, but it would be a nice surprise to show up there.”

“What do you think, Sasha?” Zolf asks, a bit of a tease in his tone as he leaves it up to her to decide. He’d finally pulled the whole story out of Sasha when they’d gotten back to London, and Sasha had hemmed and hawed and grumbled until she finally admitted to having a crush on Azu and that they’d made plans to stay in touch. Then she’d shoved Zolf out of her room as he’d laughed his arse off. (She did let him back in eventually, but only when he promised to actually  _ help  _ her figure out what to write to Azu instead of just standing there and teasing her.)

“Let’s go to the temple,” Sasha says, trying (and failing, at least to Zolf’s ears) to sound unaffected. 

“Okay!” Hamid says, beaming up at her. Clearly, he’s figured out something too, and him and Zolf are going to have to compare notes about all of this. He promised not to meddle, and he won’t break the promise, but Hamid hasn’t made such promises, and Zolf  _ really  _ just wants to see Sasha happy. 

“Where are Grizzop and Feryn? I was hoping they’d be able to make the trip as well,” Hamid asks as they finally leave the busy port, holding tightly to Zolf’s hand as though he’s afraid to lose him in the crowd. And he very well might - after the third time of Hamid getting knocked into Zolf by some dick walking by who hadn’t paid much attention to who was in the way, Zolf sighs and pulls Hamid in close against his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as Hamid squeaks.

“Feryn couldn’t get the time away,” Zolf explains. “Sends his love. Told me to give you a bit of a noogie as well, standard stuff, but I decided not to pass that particular part of the message on.”

“Thank you,” Hamid murmurs, and presses a quick kiss to Zolf’s jaw. 

“Grizzop’s out of the country,” Sasha says. “He and Veeseek - don’t know if we ever told you about them, actually - are on a trip back to Berlin for a week. They’ve got… something to do, I didn’t ask.”

Hamid looks… well, concerned, but doesn’t push the issue. Sasha doesn’t seem like she would add any information either, if he did. It’s probably for the best - whatever this is, even Zolf doesn’t know about it, which means it’s more serious than Sasha’s letting on. Hamid seems to pick up on that as well, by the way his lips pull down into a worried frown.

“Well, I’ll have to hope we see them soon!” he says, almost completely covering up his nervousness with a bright peal of laughter. All around them, people turn to look, and Sasha hides even more inside the collar of her jacket, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Thankfully, it doesn’t last, as everyone goes back to their business and lets them alone. 

They make it to the temple before long, and Hamid uses his free hand - the one not tangled with Zolf’s - to nervously smooth down the front of his cloak. He pushes open the door, followed by Zolf and then Sasha, who might actively be trying to hide behind Zolf to the best of her ability. It doesn’t take long for them to spot Azu - even in an entire temple of healers in the same uniform, she towers above the rest and, somehow, her clothes look even pinker than Zolf remembered. 

Hamid pulls them along to get out of the entranceway; a few people are standing around waiting for help, but he just waves at the man sitting at the front desk, who seems to recognise him and nods to let him continue through.

“I visit Azu a lot here,” Hamid explains in a hushed tone. “Visitors aren’t  _ really  _ supposed to go past the entryway, but Masuda doesn’t really mind, anymore, when it’s me.”

“Helpful,” Zolf says, and Hamid smiles up at him.

Azu happens to look up at that moment and spots them from across the temple; she immediately beams and raises her hand to wave, the bandage that she was holding falling to the ground as her patient looks up, confused. 

“Hello, Zolf! Hello, Sasha!” Azu calls. One of the healers in the corner winces as they tend to someone, and a few cast dirty looks at Azu for the volume.

Zolf reaches out and puts a hand on Sasha’s shoulder when he hears the telltale  _ snick _ of her knives, and Sasha doesn’t completely relax, but he watches the knives disappear back into her coat. He’s sure they’re still there and ready to be deployed within the second if Sasha wants, so he leaves his hand on her shoulder just in case. Thankfully, Hamid doesn’t seem to have noticed anything, waving at Azu from across the room. She finishes up working on the patient sitting in front of her and sends them off with a bright smile before coming over to where they’re all stood, immediately wrapping them all up in a tight hug. 

“How was the trip?” she asks, letting them go as she gives them a genuinely curious look. “I’m so happy you both are here!”

Zolf doesn’t miss the slight blush traveling up the back of Sasha’s neck, and gives Hamid a little nudge that neither she nor Azu notice. “Good to see you too, Azu,” he greets. “Decent trip, all things considered. Long.”

“Yeah - er, it was well good. Got to see the stars,” Sasha says, mumbling a bit, but Azu either doesn’t pick up on it or knows not to make a big deal of it. 

“That’s amazing! The stars over the ocean are absolutely beautiful.” Her smile turns wistful as she looks up at the ceiling. “My village back in Kenya was far from any sort of city - we lived up on a mountain with other members of my tribe, and I’ve never seen stars that clearly as I did back then.”

Hamid gives her a sympathetic smile and rubs her forearm. Azu covers his hand with hers - it dwarfs it, but neither of them seem to mind. She shakes herself a bit, and when she turns back to Zolf and Sasha, her expression is back to pure excitement. 

“What are your plans while you’re here?” Azu asks as they step out of the temple, heading down the Cairo strip and passing a number of tourist traps, restaurants, and bars. 

“We’ve got a packed day,” Hamid says, and then begins listing out everything he’s planning on showing to them, clearly excited at the itinerary he’s laid out. It’s all news to Zolf as well - Hamid likes to play this particular card close to the chest, and refuses to share any details in his letters to Zolf in order to keep the mystery up. 

This isn’t the first time Zolf or Sasha have been to Cairo since Alexandria, but every time they visit, Hamid comes up with new things to see and do. It’s both impressive and terrifying - but, Zolf supposes, when you’ve lived somewhere you’re whole life, you’re meant to want to show it off. And Hamid does a wonderful job of that, for sure. Zolf might be biased, of course, but Sasha never seems bored, and he enjoys being able to tease Hamid for being a bit of a nerd. 

“And then back for food at mine,” Hamid finishes with a flourish, “Oh, Azu, you must come for dinner! Sasha and Zolf are staying at the house, of course, and mama is planning a wonderful meal for them. There will easily be enough for you too!” 

“That’s a very generous offer, thank you,” Azu says. “And it sounds wonderful. I would love to join.”

Hamid claps his hands together once. “Fantastic! Mama won’t mind, we can just set out another place for you later. The table is easily large enough for more people to join us.”

Azu smiles, and Zolf catches Sasha smiling too, only for a moment before she schools her expression back into one of careful nonchalance. 

“Shall we be off, then?” Hamid asks, glancing around at each of them in turn, although his eyes do linger for a bit longer on Zolf. 

“Lead the way,” Zolf says, and he’s pulled along to walk next to Hamid, who’s unwilling to let go of his hand. Behind them, Azu and Sasha bring up the rear; Zolf can hear them talking, even if he can’t make out the exact words. Sasha sounds… animated, though, in ways she normally doesn’t, and he’s just glad that her and Azu are behind him and can’t catch him smiling. 

Looks like he and Hamid weren’t the only good thing to come out of this entire mess. 

—

Zolf really likes kissing Hamid. 

They’re in the garden, flowers blooming on all sides of them, but Zolf only has eyes for Hamid. Well - mostly. His eyes are closed right now, because Hamid’s lips are on his and he’s being pushed back against the arm of a bench that he and Hamid sat on just moments ago. He also doesn’t much care to change the situation; he’s happy enough to kiss Hamid back, arms wrapped around his back, and not think about anything important, or about how he has to leave in two days, for a while. 

It’s been a busy day, and the sun is just starting to set in the distance. Zolf’s stomach is happily full from dinner and pudding, a massive spread that he and Sasha had thanked Hawaa and their head chef for  _ profusely.  _ (It’s… still a bit weird that Hamid actually has  _ servants _ . Zolf’s trying not to think about it.) Sasha and Azu are… off somewhere, Zolf doesn’t know. Azu had wanted to show her something, but he hadn’t caught the pronunciation or the explanation, a bit distracted by the heat of Hamid’s fingers wrapping around his wrist before being tugged off into the gardens for a walk. 

Or, well. A “walk”, he supposes.

“I missed you so much,” Hamid says against his lips; he’s been repeating it all day, which Zolf can’t fault him for, considering he feels much the same. 

“I missed you,” he murmurs back, and Hamid presses back in, desperately, fingers playing through Zolf’s hair as they make out like teenagers. Zolf feels a little silly with it, but Hamid’s so warm against him and his head is buzzing with each slide of Hamid’s lips against his, so he doesn’t really mind. 

Hamid readjusts him so that Zolf’s resting against the back of the bench instead of the arm, and swings his leg around until he’s straddling Zolf’s waist, arms wrapped loosely around his neck as he kisses along the side of Zolf’s jaw before returning to his lips. 

Zolf’s hands almost automatically go to rest on Hamid’s waist, keeping him there and giving him a handhold as Hamid kisses him, presses his tongue into Zolf’s mouth and gasps against his lips, until Zolf’s entire world is narrowed down to nothing but Hamid. They both do have to breathe, though, and the next time they do, Zolf lets himself speak instead of going right back in.

“I wish we could be closer,” he murmurs, even as he knows how unrealistic it is. They’ve been handling the long distance well in the few months since Alexandria, learning more about each other through letters and brief visits, but… he still misses Hamid like a heartache when one of them has to inevitably leave.

“We are close,” Hamid teases, and proves his point by kissing Zolf again, just a peck of his lips this time. 

Zolf pushes his face away as Hamid giggles, but leaves his hand there, and it mostly turns into a caress. “You know what I  _ meant,”  _ he grumbles, but there’s no actual heat behind it. 

“I do,” Hamid says, softer this time. “I wish we were, too.” Something flashes in his eyes and his smile falters a bit, seeming a bit more forced and nervous, and he covers Zolf’s hand on his cheek with his own, twisting to press a kiss to his palm. “Zolf -“ he starts, something in his tone that Zolf can’t identify. 

He looks beautiful in the light, skin all golden and gorgeous and freckled, and Zolf can’t stop himself from leaning in to cut him off, one hand wrapping around the back of Hamid’s neck as he tilts him into the kiss. 

Hamid lets him for a moment as well, arms draped around Zolf’s shoulders as their lips slide together lazily. His tongue traces the outside of Zolf’s lips but doesn't go any farther, and he pulls back much sooner than Zolf had wanted him to.

He opens his eyes, slightly confused but mostly curious, and Hamid looks… sheepish, almost, a mix of nervous and tense and, if Zolf didn’t know better,  _ scared. _

“Hamid?” Zolf says, a question as much as it is an invitation to speak, and Hamid rests his hand against Zolf’s chest as he stares resolutely forward. 

“That’s actually… well, there’s something I wanted to. Speak to you about?” Hamid says hesitantly, looking as nervous as Zolf’s ever seen him. A bead of concern forms slowly in Zolf’s chest, a hard knot of worry in his throat that he swallows around as he leans back and stares at Hamid. 

“Er. Okay?” he says hesitantly, and Hamid immediately shakes his head.

“No, no - it’s - sorry, I - it’s not  _ bad,  _ I promise,” he reassures, and the knot lessens a little bit but not enough for Zolf to feel completely comforted. He rests his hand over Hamid’s sitting on his chest and pulls it away until it’s resting between their laps, tangling their fingers together. “I have a… well, it’s, er - it’s not really a question, more of an… opportunity? I suppose? Anyway, er, just tell me if it’s a bad idea and - you know, maybe it  _ is  _ a bad idea, actually, neverm-“

“Hamid,” Zolf says, cutting him off with a fond smile and a raised eyebrow. “How ‘bout you tell me the idea and we decide together if it’s ridiculous?” Hamid chews on his lips, looking intently at a point just over Zolf’s shoulder, and so Zolf shifts, hands still resting around Hamid’s waist, until he’s in his line of sight. “Hamid?”

“There’s - er, I was speaking to my father about some work that needs doing at some of our foreign banking branches, and he let slip that one of the banks in England was suffering from a lack of… connection, he said, and that they needed someone to go in and straighten up the place,” Hamid explains, and Zolf wishes he knew why Hamid seems so  _ nervous. _ “He was going to send Saira - she’s much better with maths than I am, and much better at leading a team as well, but. She’s so  _ busy  _ here, and she never wanted to be part of the family business anyway. And Aziza is touring, he can’t expect her to take time off from the opera. Saleh is… still recovering, and the twins are too young, so -“

Zolf tilts his head, squinting as he looks at Hamid, who still isn’t making eye contact with him. “Saleh - your brother? Recovering from  _ what?  _ Sorry, Hamid, I’m not really following all. This. Er - what d’you mean, exactly?” 

“I…” Hamid trails off, biting his bottom lip as he leans back even more, so far that Zolf is slightly worried that he’s going to fall. “I convinced my father to let me take the job instead. Instead of Saira.”

“The… job at the bank in England?” Zolf says, still not completely sure why it’s relevant. “I thought you didn’t want -“ 

“It’s in London,” Hamid says, cutting him off, and for a moment their eyes meet before he breaks eye contact, staring back at his hands in his lap. “And, all things going well, it’s. Well, it would be a - a permanent placement? In - in London, I mean. A little, er, a little outside, really, not - not too far, but. Not in the city proper. I’d - commute in, er - but it would be. Close. To. To you?”

Close. To him. 

Hamid would be. 

In  _ London. _

Permanently.

Zolf doesn’t really know what to think. Well, no, that’s - he’s  _ ecstatic,  _ really, just the thought of Hamid being close enough for him to visit whenever he wanted, being close enough that they could see each other every day, if they really wanted? It’s everything he’s been dreaming of since they decided to give the long distance thing a try, everything he’s wanted to ask for but knew he never could. He’s - he didn’t even know that it was a possibility, that they  _ could  _ have this, and his heart starts beating faster in his chest, so fast that he’s shocked Hamid can’t feel it. 

He’s gone too long without saying something, he realises, when Hamid shifts his weight on Zolf’s lap, pulling his hand away as he wraps his arms around his middle. 

“I mean - I wouldn’t be directly in your town, and I know you have your - your own job and w- wouldn’t be able to leave it whenever you want, but I’d only be an hour or so away, and - and we could - we could see each other a lot more?” Hamid babbles, leaning even farther away now, and his hand is shaking as he brushes it through his hair

“Hamid -“ Zolf starts: he’s cut off as Hamid continues, steamrolling over him as he continues to stammer. 

“Closer than, than now, I mean, we could - I mean, only if you  _ wanted  _ to, really, I don’t - I don’t mean to put words in your mouth, or anything, I just - it’s an  _ option.” _

“ _ Hamid -“  _ Zolf tries, but Hamid doesn’t even seem to hear him, staring resolutely down at his hands, wringing his palms. 

“This - er, sorry, if you don’t like it, it was incredibly presumptuous of me, and -“

Zolf covers Hamid’s mouth with a palm, waiting for his words to slowly die out as he finally looks back up at Zolf, anxiety flickering in his eyes. 

“Let me get a word in edgewise one of these days, yeah?” Zolf says, smiling over at him, and drops his hand. Hamid, thankfully, listens, and doesn’t say anything even as he stares up at Zolf, clearly dreading whatever he’s going to say next. He doesn’t need to. “Hamid - I want this. I would - you taking the job, being closer - yes. Yes.”

“It’s - that’s fine, we don’t - wait,” Hamid says, jaw dropping as he stares up at Zolf. “You - you like it? You want me to move to London?”

“I mean - only if this really is what you want. I know you love Cairo, but...” Zolf says, trailing off. 

Hamid blinks once, twice, and then his hands cup Zolf’s cheeks and pull him into a soft kiss. “You’re… so good to me, you know that?” he whispers, and then he’s beaming as he laughs, quiet and content. “And… it really,  _ really _ is what I want,” he says, words breathed out against Zolf’s lips. “I can always come visit my family, after all.”

“Good,” Zolf says, and goes to kiss him again. 

Hamid indulges him for a moment, but again, it gets cut too short as he leans back. “Just - okay, I know, but, I’m not pushing you into anything you don’t -“

“Hamid.” Zolf takes Hamid’s face between his hands and pulls him closer until their foreheads are touching again. He doesn’t break eye contact even though it means he gets a little cross-eyed. “I want you to move. I want to be able to spend more than a few weekends every so often with you. I want to - I want to be able to stay with you, to have you over at mine and wake up and know you don’t have a ship to catch in a few hours. You’re not pushing me into anything. Okay?”

He can hear Hamid swallow, and then there are tears in Hamid’s eyes as he rests his fingers on Zolf’s wrists. “Really?”

“ _ Really _ ,” Zolf says again, with as much emphasis as he can put on the word, and Hamid smiles as wide as he’s ever seen him, a single tear slipping down his cheek as he ducks his head. 

“Gods, I love you,” Hamid says, and then freezes, fingers stilling where they wrap around Zolf’s wrists. “I - I -“

“I love you too,” Zolf says before he can think about it and second guess everything - it’s an instinct, but when he looks down at Hamid… yeah. That’s the feeling he has burning in his chest. “I love you,” he repeats, and then laughs, because it feels so  _ right  _ on his tongue.

Hamid seems to agree, based on how he immediately leans in, and Zolf loses track of time for a bit after that. 

“When would you move?” Zolf asks a fair bit later, lips spit-slick and swollen from kissing Hamid within an inch of his life, and Hamid hums against his shoulder. They’d ended up moving at one point, Zolf mostly laying down on the bench with Hamid curled up on top of him. They’ll have to get inside soon - night’s truly fallen, and Zolf  _ is  _ tired from the journey, but for now… he’s content to just lay here and stroke his hand up and down Hamid’s back. 

“It wouldn’t happen for a bit - baba would need to get all the paperwork squared away and alert that branch, and then we’d have to handle the flat and get the staff up to speed, but. Maybe by the end of next month?” Hamid guesses, and a spike of excitement drives itself through Zolf’s chest. “As long as everything goes off without a hitch.”

“I can’t wait,” Zolf says, and kisses the side of Hamid’s head. Hamid glances up at him with a smile, and Zolf realises that he’s going to have the chance to really, truly get used to this. To Hamid waking up on his chest, to sharing the same space for more than a limited amount of hours, to being able to -  _ everything.  _

This… this is only their beginning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s done!!! finally!!! this got so much longer than intended holy shit
> 
> anyway i hope y’all enjoyed, and if you did, i’d really appreciate a kudos or a comment <3 thanks y’all
> 
> hmu on tumblr @ohallows !!

**Author's Note:**

> found my nano project!! i have. absolutely no idea what my updates will look like, sorry! but i am actively working on this fic and am very excited to share it with you all. i hope you enjoy! 
> 
> EDIT: should mention this is loosely based on a webcomic i read called ‘here it comes’ it’s very cute and i love it! 
> 
> kudos and comments are... incredibly appreciated thank u!! or hmu on tumblr at connerkcnt and chat abt rqg


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